Chapter 18: Keep It Quiet

Don let go of my hand and climbed the three steps to the stage.

He did not run.

Marco saw him coming and kept smiling.

"Don, buddy, I know it's hard. Let me get through the..."

Don took the microphone out of his hand.

"Sit down, Marco."

"Don..."

"Sit."

Marco sat on the edge of the stage, because six board members were watching.

The whole room held still.

Don took a small yellow square of paper from his inside pocket and held it up to the lights.

"On our anniversary I stuck this note on a document in my study," he said. "I want you to hear it."

His voice was even.

"Tell her after the gala. Keep it quiet."

He lowered the page.

Someone turned those words into a knife.

A murmur ran through the tables.

"Who?" a man called from the back.

"Valeria Ferraro, with Marco behind her. Six months of it."

Heads turned to the red dress.

Valeria stood by the champagne tower, one hand at her throat.

"Don, don't do this in front of everyone."

"You did it in front of everyone," Don said. "That was the plan."

He held up the note again.

"I wrote quiet. Marco heard a starting gun, and the reporters were booked before I finished the sentence."

Marco was on his feet again.

"This is a misunderstanding. You're grieving, you're confused..."

"I'm not confused. I'm very clear."

Don looked over the room until he found me.

"My wife signed and walked out, and I let that stand for weeks. Tonight I'm done letting it stand."

He let that sit.

"She left in the snow. She walked two miles to a bus. Then she took the shame they had for her and sent it back."

I could hear my own heartbeat.

From the back of the room came a small tapping sound.

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