"Pay for what?" I ask quietly.
Amauri shrugs, little shoulders lifting. "I don't know. But Marianne got really angry. She said,No. Absolutely not. You've already been compensated." He pauses at the word and scowls, like he's trying to figure out what it means. "She was mean about it."
Something cold and precise slides into place inside my chest.Compensated. Something nags at the back of my mind. The ledger entry toNorthstar Advisory Group,the company that belonged to Sean before he came to work for my father. The thirty grand the day before Massimo vanished.
Amauri looks up at me, earnest, troubled. "I didn't like it. It sounded like Sean was trying to take money from Grandpa. That's not fair."
Sunlight pours through the windows, bright and oblivious to the dark storm raging inside me. Amauri goes back to the puzzle, already done with the subject, justice satisfied in his own small way.
"Jenna?" Marianne presses. "Who is that child?"
My phone vibrates in my hand. Another incoming call. Aunt Celeste. I don't pick it up.
I close my eyes.
"That's Amauri," I fill Marianne in, just to hear her reaction.
The silence on the other end is instant. Then—too carefully— "…Amauri?"
"Yes."
A sharp inhale. Not concern. Shock.
"Oh my God," Marianne whispers. "He's… he's back?" Then right after, without a breath in between, she asks, "You have him with you? Right now?"
Amauri looks up at me, sensing the shift. I smile at him reflexively, even as my pulse roars in my ears.
"Yes," I also don't pause, and I'm unable to keep some smugness out of my tone, "I do."
Another pause. I can practically hear Marianne thinking. Recalculating.
"And Carter?" she asks carefully. "Where is Carter, Jenna?"
I don't answer. I don't know how. I don't know what to say. That I haven't given the asshole a second of thought since he and Amauri were taken? The sunlight is too bright. Amauri hums to himself, lining puzzle pieces into neat rows. Another text flashes across my screen—my father this time. Then Kelly, the mother of a boy Amauri sometimes plays with. Then a number I don't recognize.
Marianne's voice drops, tight and urgent. "Jenna, listen to me. You need to be very careful right now."
I almost laugh.
"Why?" I ask softly. "Careful of what?"
"Careful of Massimo. He's dangerous. I don't like the way you went to him, I?—"
"Marianne?" I interrupt.
"Yes?"
"I don't give a shit what you like or don't like. Tell my father that Massimo freed Amauri and Carter and that I know the truth."
"The truth? What? What do you know?" She sounds almost panicked now.
"I'll call you back," I tell her.
"Jenna—don't do anything rash," Marianne pleads in a high-pitched voice. "Please. We just want to help you."
I end the call.
The quiet that follows is heavy, electric.
