Chapter 19: Mrs. Bertolini Votes

I stood up.

The chair scraped on the old floor, and forty-one people turned to watch me do it.

The silver ring pressed against my throat.

"Thank you for letting me hear the men first," I said.

I kept my voice level and looked down the length of the table, to the foot, where Stefano sat with his hands folded.

"Stefano has told you what the Don did these two weeks. Now I would like you to hear what Stefano did."

"Sit down," Stefano said. "This is a family matter."

"I'm family. I wear the ring."

Nobody argued.

I took my phone from the pocket of the green dress.

The video of his speech had sat in the family group chat since the morning after the party.

I turned the volume to the top and set the phone on the walnut, face up, in the middle of the cloth.

I pressed play.

Stefano's voice came out small and clear in the quiet hall, and the tiny guests on the screen began to laugh.

I did not listen to it again.

I watched the faces at the table instead.

The old uncles stared at the cloth.

A cousin looked at her plate.

Teresa had not looked away from Stefano.

The video ended on his raised glass.

I let the silence stand.

"That is the man who says the Don has lost his judgment," I said. "Who here sat through that dinner and did not laugh?"

Nobody moved.

Teresa put up her hand, slowly, and kept it up.

Then the thin capo on the right raised his.

Then one of Dario's soldiers, against the wall, and the grey-bearded one beside him.

I did not need to count them.

Stefano's face had gone white.

"It was a joke," he said. "It was my birthday."

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