Chapter 20: The Anniversary

Valeria's POV

Two hundred people sat under the chandeliers of the Sorrentino banquet hall, and every one of them had seen the video.

I could feel it as I walked in.

Heads turned at the tables. Forks went down. A cousin I had hugged at my first wedding looked at her plate.

Luca walked beside me in a black suit with his hand at the small of my back.

My mother walked behind us in her best navy dress, with a red mark still fading on her cheek.

Nobody said hello.

We took the table closest to the stage, because Aldo had asked us to.

Stefano sat at the head table in a white dinner jacket.

He had a glass of champagne in front of him and a folder under his hand.

He saw me, raised the glass, and smiled.

The seat beside him was empty.

At seven, the lights dimmed on the room and rose on the stage.

Aldo walked up to the microphone leaning on his cane.

The applause was polite. It died fast.

"Forty years ago," Aldo said, "I opened a deli with a borrowed refrigerator and a brother-in-law who couldn't add."

A few people laughed. It was the kind of laugh that tests the ice.

"I have told that story at forty of these dinners. Tonight I'm going to tell you a different one."

Stefano stood up.

"Dad."

"Sit down, Stefano."

"I'd like to say a few words first."

"You'll have your turn."

"I'd like to now," said Stefano, and he lifted the folder.

He walked to the stage, and Aldo let him.

He took the microphone from the stand with an easy flick of the wrist, and he turned to the room.

"Good evening, everyone. My father is about to confess something, and I thought you should see the paperwork first."

He opened the folder.

He held up a yellowed sheet with a hospital header, and a screen behind him lit with an enlarged photo of it.

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