Chapter 10: What the Earring Cost

Carina's POV

Ettore did not speed up.

He turned off the avenue onto a service road behind a closed lumber yard and cut the headlights.

The sedan rolled to a stop between two stacked pallets, and he killed the engine.

The Alfa came down the avenue a minute later, going very fast.

Its red tail lights shrank and disappeared toward the bridge.

We sat in the dark and listened to the engine tick.

"He'll check the airport and the train station first," Ettore said. "Then he'll start on the people who owe me money."

"And then?"

"Then he'll come here."

His mother's flat was on the second floor of a narrow house over a shoe repair shop.

It had a single bed, a stove and a plastic Madonna on a shelf.

He locked the door and wedged a chair under the handle.

Neither of us said anything while he drew the curtains.

I stood in the middle of the room still holding my mother's rosary.

The fear I had held back for three days finally went out of me.

My knees gave way, and Ettore caught me before I reached the floor.

"I've got you," he said.

I pushed against his chest and got my feet under me.

"Don't."

"Carina."

"Don't be kind to me," I said. "I can't stand it."

I turned on him.

"You went into my room with a glove on."

"Yes."

"You took the one thing I had to prove I wasn't mad, and you put it in the river."

"Yes."

"Then you stood in my hospital room and let me say thank you."

"I know."

"You knew for two years there was a woman and you watched me take pills."

"I knew about a woman. I didn't know it was Mirella."

"You didn't ask," I said. "You never once asked."

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