Chapter 15: You're No Morreale

The great doors opened behind the last pew.

Two men in white came in, side by side.

Behind them came an older man in a gray suit, carrying a leather folder.

I knew his voice before he spoke.

I had heard it through a desk in Saverio's study, saying they always do.

The orderlies started down the aisle.

My mother had her handkerchief pressed to her mouth.

My father didn't lift his head.

Halfway down, the orderlies stopped.

Corrado had stepped out from the end of the front pew into the middle of the aisle.

He stood there with his hands loose at his sides.

Behind him, across the aisle, his two men got up from the back row.

One of the orderlies looked over his shoulder at the doctor.

"Don Amato," Saverio said. "This is a medical matter."

"Then let the doctor speak to her."

Corrado didn't turn around when he said it.

The doctor came forward slowly, past the orderlies, past Corrado.

He stopped at the foot of the altar steps and looked up at me.

His hair was white, and his hands were careful on the folder.

"Signora Morreale," he said. "Do you remember me?"

"You gave me a room with a window on the sea. I asked for the blind to stay up."

Something moved in his face.

"Yes. I remember."

"Then listen to me now, Doctor, in front of these people."

"I'm not ill. I haven't harmed myself or anyone else. I'm not going with you."

"The power of attorney I signed in your clinic, I revoke it. Here, in front of a priest and two hundred witnesses."

"Rosaria," Saverio said quietly. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying. I wrote the form."

The doctor looked at me for a long time.

Then he looked at Graziella's bandaged hand.

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