Chapter 20: The Fall

Claire's POV

I dressed Silvio's hand at four in the morning, on the edge of the bath.

Second-degree burns across the palm, silver cream, gauze, and tape.

He watched me do it without a word.

When I finished, he turned his wrist and held my fingers in his good hand.

"You said I get to choose," he said.

"You did."

"I'd like to keep choosing it."

I kissed his bandage and went to sleep with my face against his chest.

At noon on Wednesday, the council sat again.

Fourteen chairs, and the uncle stood in front of them with his wrist in a plaster cast.

He had not slept either.

The oldest man read from a sheet.

He read it in English, for my sake, and I understood that he did it on purpose.

"All holdings in the uncle's name pass to the family."

He turned a page.

"All interest taken on loans in the old boss's name is returned to the book. The uncle leaves Philadelphia and does not return."

"I was his brother," the uncle said.

"You were."

"For sixty years."

"And for four of them you were a thief." The oldest man set the sheet down. "A thief in your own brother's house. Go."

Two men took the uncle by the arms.

He didn't fight.

He looked down the table at Silvio, and then at me.

"You think this is finished," he said.

"I think it's a Wednesday," I said.

Somebody coughed to cover a laugh.

Silvio's mouth moved, very slightly.

The uncle was walked to the door, and it stayed open behind him.

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