Chapter 31: The Amulet

Dante did not follow him.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done, and it had no witnesses.

He did not walk past the east wing.

He did not ask the warden where the light was on.

He did not send a car, or a note, or a coffee in a chipped white mug.

On Friday morning, the day he had sworn to tell it all, and had already told it, he went to church instead.

San Marco was cold and empty at six, with one candle burning in front of the saint.

He knelt on the worn place in the stone and put his forehead against his folded hands.

He did not pray for Javier to come back.

He had done that once, for seven days, and it had killed him.

He prayed to be a man who could stand it if he did not.

A heel clicked on the aisle behind him.

"You are on the wrong side of the rail," his mother said. "The priest says that spot is only for the guilty."

Maria sat down in the pew with her handbag on her knees.

She wore the plain gray coat now, not the white fur, and she looked tired.

"Daniel called me," she said.

"Daniel doesn't have your number."

"He found it. He is a very resourceful boy." She almost smiled. "He told me you let him go."

"I did."

"Did it feel like dying?"

"Yes."

"Good. That's how it feels when you do it right."

Dante got up off his knees and sat beside her.

For a while neither of them spoke.

"I told you not to bring him home," Maria said. "I did not tell you what to do instead."

"What do I do?"

"You wait. You work. You let him miss you."

She opened her handbag and took out a small velvet bag, worn at the seams.

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