Chapter 12: The Bandage

Russell came to the suite at nine that night, alone, with a banker's box in his arms.

My mother's men let him in as far as the sitting room and no farther.

I stayed in the doorway of the bedroom, with one hand on the frame.

He looked older than he had a week ago.

"I brought everything," he said. "The bet thread, the invoice for the lobby screen, her texts about the elevator. I'll testify to all of it."

He set the box on the table.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because she used me."

"She used you," I said. "You also did it."

He flinched, and he did not argue.

"I put my hands on your shoulders. I pushed you down. Nobody made me do that, Bianca."

"No."

"I watched the footage today. I want you to know I watched all of it."

"That should not have taken a camera."

"I know."

He stood there with his hands open at his sides, and for once he did not ask me for anything.

"I'm not asking you to come back," he said. "I came to give you the box."

"Then give it to Tommaso and go."

He looked at me a long moment.

He set the box in Tommaso's hands and went out the door without another word.

I listened to the elevator take him down.

Then my knees gave a little, and I sat on the arm of the sofa.

"Your dressing has come loose," Tommaso said.

"It's fine."

"It is not fine." He knelt by the sofa with the doctor's kit open on the table. "Lift your arm, please."

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