Something flicked. It was metal. Dancing in the light, it became an extension of Papa’s hand.
Two big men, the kind of men who came around every once in a while, held the funny looking man in between them.
The moment I realized what the metal thing was, a scream twisted in my throat. I clapped both hands over my mouth. I wasn’t supposed to be here.
But I couldn’t make myself leave.
I was stuck.
And I watched as my papa gripped the funny man’s ear. With a vicious tug, he slid the sharp thing—the knife—across the man’s head.
The ear dropped to the ground, skipping and hopping over the rug.
I saw it roll under the desk.
“Get him out of here,” papa barked.
The big men drug the funny man away. He was crying, but he didn’t make a noise.
Just like me.
Through the tears, I watched, praying to the saints and my mama in heaven that they didn’t catch me. I still couldn’t move.
“Sorry to have to do this today,” Signor Partucchi muttered, flicking his lighter. His fat cheeks puffed as he worked a cigar.
Papa went to his desk and pulled out another. “Let’s go down and celebrate. Wait till you see the gift I got my girl.”
“She’s a fine-looking doll, getting so big. Soon all the young jackanapes will be vying for her.” Smoke billowed out of Signor Partucchi’s mouth.
My muscles began to thaw. Ever so quietly, I inched backward.
My father sighed. “Already six, and look! Look at these grey hairs!”
Signor Partucchi laughed.
I slid to the corner of the library. The big green chair was the best for hide-and-go-seek. I made myself as small as possible behind it.
The door in the office opened and shut.
The smoke stayed, and so did the ear. I couldn’t see them, but I felt them.
Burying my face on my knees, I cried. Why did God have to take my mama? She taught me not to play with knives. But my papa…my papa cut someone. On purpose.
In a burst of clarity, I realized that if I wasn’t a good little girl, if I whined like Signora Partucchi accused me of, I might be the one getting cut. My mama was an angel in heaven, she couldn’t protect me, and she left me here with a monster.
I sneezed three times. The past whispered away, the sunlight on the backyard making it no more than a haunting memory.
“Brady,” I called out. He was squatting near the tool shed, staring fixedly at the rotting planks that make up the side. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. Stay in the backyard, okay?”
“Okay!” he said in a loud whisper.
I frowned, because he was clearly up to something. But I desperately needed hot liquid to sip on. Hurrying inside, I kept looking out the back window as I heated water. Brady might be attached to Ivan, but I needed to spare him the heartbreak that was inevitable.
“He doesn’t seem like he brings work home,” I muttered.
Why was I defending Ivan? He was a boss. If push came to shove, he might drag someone here and then it would be over. Or maybe he would insist Brady go along on a job. I would be powerless to stop it.
No, if that was the life I was going to keep Brady from, it needed to end. Now.
