“Actually, yes,” she says, looking lost in thought. “Even though I only saw him from a distance, I noticed that they were very striking. They almost seemed like they were a deep shade of red or violet.”
There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“His hair and eyebrows?” I ask. “Were they white blond?”
She nods slowly. "Do you know him?”
"Unfortunately, I think I do," I say.
This can only mean one thing.
The Innocentis are back from hiding.
"Who is he?" she asks. "Does he belong to a crime family too?"
I look at Sarah. I shouldn't be sharing these things with her, but she deserves to know the truth about the people who hurt her.
"There's a crime family called the Innocentis," I say. "They're not a part of the big three, but?—"
"The big three?" She interrupts.
"TheCamorra, theCosa Nostra, and the 'Ndrangheta," I say. "These are the three main crime families that rule over Italy. If there's one thing all three of us have in common, it's that we can't stand the Innocentis. They're a family of albinos who have lived in hiding for hundreds of years. They live by their own rules, and they tend to cause problems for the rest of us."
"What kind of problems?"
"Their culture is very different from ours," I say, leaving the rest of it unsaid.
"Right." She takes a deep breath.
We sit in silence for a moment.
Then I ask her the harder questions. She answers every one of them.
“I’m not a pretty girl, so I was made a servant instead,” she says. "During the auctions, it was my job to prepare the other girls for the bidders. In a way, I guess I was complicit in their crimes. Refusing to follow orders meant being broken even more, so we just did what we were told."
Silent tears trail down her cheeks.
“You weren’t complicit in their crimes, Sarah,” I say. “You know that, right?”
She raises a shoulder, refusing to look at me.
"Something horrible happened to you. But you're a survivor, so you found a way to stay alive. Even if that meant shutting off a part of you just so you could do what you're told," I say.
She looks back at me now. Her eyes are wide as she stares at me. I can see the guilt still warring in her mind.
"They made me participate," she says, her voice quivering. "They made me be a part of their operation. And there were so many others like me. If we showed any weakness, they punished us in the most cruel ways.”
I try to stay focused on what she's saying, but I'm starting to see red again.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping this feeling will fade.
My hands ball into fists.
"Signor Mancini?" The girl's voice feels like it's coming from the end of a tunnel.
There's no way out for me. I'm too far gone.
"Dante?" she says, sounding scared now.
