Chapter 21: Four Letters, Late

Renata's POV

Gianluca came back at midnight with my brother, a laundry basket and a shoebox.

He set them on the study desk and told me where he had been before I could be angry about it.

I was angry anyway, for about a minute.

Then Tommy came in behind him with his backpack and stood by the door.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything on Friday."

"You said it Saturday."

"Not loud enough."

I crossed the room and hugged him, and he went stiff and then gave up.

He was crying into my shoulder before I could say anything else.

The maid took him to eat.

I turned to the basket, and Gianluca stood a little back.

On top was the school letter with the scholarship, four thousand a year.

I read it three times.

Under it were the cards from my grandmother.

I had not seen her in two years, because my mother said she was difficult.

I held one of the cards, and the back of my eyes hurt.

"Open the box," Gianluca said. "You don't have to. But they're yours."

The shoebox was lighter than I expected.

Four cream envelopes lay in it, addressed in a square, careful hand.

He had written my name in careful capitals, with no cross-outs.

I took the first one out.

It was dated the eleventh of April.

Dear Renata, the page said.

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