Chapter 22: Whose Money It Was

I did not breathe.

The grove was silent except for a dry rattle of olive leaves.

"Say that again," said Alessio, behind me.

"Montanari money paid for her mother's medicine," said Domenico.

"I put it through the hospital fund myself, five years ago. I have the cheques."

He looked at me.

"She owes my family a debt, council. A debt she never knew about, and a debt she has never paid."

"That's a lie," said Alessio.

"Is it?" Domenico spread his hands. "My signature is on every one."

I turned around.

Alessio's face was grey.

"Nina," he said, very low. "Let me tell you first."

"Tell me what?"

"The fund was mine."

I stared at him.

"The day after the festival, I went to the hospital on the Via Foria."

"I put money into a fund for a girl from the Vico Lungo. I used my own account, and I did not give her name."

"Why?"

"Because I had watched you cry on the church steps."

"Because four hundred euros was never going to be enough, and I could not stand it."

"And Domenico?"

"The fund is the old dock charity chest. Two names sign every cheque, a Ruffo and a Montanari."

Alessio's voice cracked.

"He signed because the chest required it. The money came from me."

Domenico smiled and said nothing.

The oldest of the council stepped forward.

"I keep the books of that chest," he said. "I audited it every year."

The old man looked at me, and the harshness in his face had changed.

"The gift to the hospital fund, five years ago, was entered under Alessio's own name."

"The Montanari signed because they must. They paid nothing."

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