"Tried to. Finally got a taxi to drive me. The road's blocked. Construction vehicles everywhere, warning signs about electrical hazards." She takes a sip of coffee, studying me over the rim.
Franco must have worked through the night to stage the scene. "The construction is a mess," I say weakly.
Jessica looks between us. "Okay, what's happening here?"
"What's happening," Sarah says, not breaking eye contact with me, "is that Maddie's boyfriend is controlling our entire visit. Where we stay, where we go, who drives us, and now apparently doing major construction to keep us away from her house."
"That's not true! Why would he do that?"
"Don't." Sarah's voice is sharp. "Don't lie to me, Maddie. We've been friends for eight years. I know when you're lying."
The room goes quiet except for the distant sound of church bells.
"I did more research on him last night," Sarah continues. "Why does every business record I can find only go backabout seven years? Like his entire professional history has been cleaned up?"
"He’s a very private person."
"Or maybe he's exactly what he appears to be. Someone with enough money and power to control an entire fucking village."
"You're being paranoid."
"Am I? His house has more security than most embassies. The restaurant staff treated him like visiting royalty. He has drivers who double as bodyguards. That's not normal business practice, Maddie."
"This is Sicily. Things are different here."
"How?"
I struggle for an explanation that doesn't confirm her suspicions. "It's more traditional. Hierarchical. Successful people are respected."
"Feared," Sarah corrects. "The waiters weren't respectful. They were afraid of him. I could see fear in their eyes."
She's right, and we both know it.
"What exactly are you implying?" I ask.
"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating facts. Your boyfriend exhibits all the characteristics of someone involved in organized crime. He’s fucking Mafia, Maddie! You’re involved with the mob."
"Don't." The word comes out harder than I intended. "Don't say it."
"Why not? Because it's not true, or because you don't want to hear it?"
Jessica sets down her coffee carefully. "Guys, maybe we should talk about this another time?"
"I need to know she's safe," Sarah interrupts. "I need to know our best friend isn't in danger. Is that too much to ask?"
"I'm not in danger, I promise."
"How can you be sure?"
Because the only people who've actually threatened me have been taken care of, courtesy of Enzo. Whatever that means. But I can't say that.
"I just know," I say instead.
Sarah rolls her eyes. "That's not good enough."
"It has to be."
Sarah stands up, pacing to the terrace doors. "Do you even hear yourself? You sound like every woman who's ever been in a controlling or abusive relationship. 'It's complicated.' 'You don't understand.' 'I just know.'"
