Oh Marco. What are you doing to this kid?
“It’s going to heal,” I tell her. Which might be a lie. I have no idea how bad the scarring is. I’ve only ever seen the bandage. “Your daddy is very strong. And brave. Just like you.”
She nods again. But the tears don’t stop.
Neli appears at the top of the stairs.
I catch her eye and mouth the words:What did she see?
Neli’s expression instantly locks down. She shakes her head once.
Can’t tell me.
Won’t tell me.
HIPAA probably.
Or loyalty to Marco.
Both, maybe.
But the pain in her eyes tells me everything I need to know.
It’s bad.
Really bad.
Bad enough that a five-year-old who’s already processing bear attack trauma and dead mother trauma came out crying.
I take Ben to her room. Read her stories until she falls asleep. Frederick tucked beside her like a tiny guardian snail.
Then I stand in the hallway staring at the door to Marco’s room.
I should knock. Should check in. Should do something other than stand here like a creeper in my own employer’s house.
Except he’s not just your employer anymore, is he?
Right. That’s the problem.
He’s the man who worshipped my body on a cabin floor. Who counted breaths with me when I admitted my darkest fear. Who stepped between me and a charging bear without hesitation.
And now he won’t even let me see his face.
At this rate, the only person who gets face time with Marco Fiore is Neli. Lucky her. Maybe they’re having a torrid affair behind closed doors while she changes his bandages.
Yeah, that’s definitely what’s happening.
Because nothing says romance like antiseptic and wound care.
God, I’m losing it.
Downstairs, Rosa has left dinner. I eat mechanically. Taste nothing. Clean up. Check on Ben one more time.
Still sleeping. Good.
It’s nine pm when I finally work up the courage to go back upstairs.
Neli is just leaving Marco’s room. She’s carrying supplies. Fresh bandages. The smell of antiseptic follows her.
