Chapter 13: Fifty-One Percent

The board of Sarnelli Porto met at ten on Thursday, in the long room on the top floor of the harbour office.

I arrived early with the family lawyer, who carried the certificate in a flat leather case.

Two guards from the villa gate stood in the lobby.

One of them was the man who had said goodnight to me by name.

"Donna Marisa," he said, and stood straight. "The directors are upstairs."

"Thank you."

The lift opened behind me, and Ilaria stepped out of it in a cream suit, a folder held against her chest.

She stopped when she saw me.

"Mari." Her eyes filled at once. "I'm only here to take notes for Madre. Please don't make a scene."

"You're not on the list, Ilaria."

"I'll sit in the corner. I won't say a word."

I looked at the guard. "Is Signorina Fusco on the list?"

"No, Donna."

"Then she doesn't go up."

Ilaria's mouth opened. Two dockers waiting at the porter's desk had turned to watch.

"You can't," she said, and her voice came out thin and real, with no tears in it. "Tommaso wanted me here."

"Tommaso doesn't own the list."

I held out my hand.

She stared at it.

"The pearls were my grandmother's," I said. "The earrings were Papa's gift. Hand them over here, please."

She unclasped the pearls with shaking fingers. She took the emeralds from her ears one at a time.

The guard walked her to the street door and held it open.

She went through it without looking back.

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