What she looked like now, what she said, what she did, what she liked, what scared her, how she looked asleep—I knew none of it.
I had no right to know any of it.
I put the envelope in my bag, took a deep breath, stepped down, headed toward the subway.
Twenty steps later, I stopped. Turned around. Looked back at the house.
I stared at it for a long time.
Then turned. Kept walking.
Just a coincidence.
That's what I told myself as I walked into the subway station.
But when I looked down at my hands, my fingers were still shaking.
I shoved them in my pockets. Got on the train.
Chapter Fifteen
Ezio
The meeting had dragged on for forty minutes.
I sat at the head of the table, listening to them argue over routes for a shipment. The West Coast docks were hot lately. They'd pitched two alternatives—one through Houston, one through Mexico. Each had its own math, its own palms to grease.
Rocco sat to my left, flipping through reports, occasionally cutting in to pull the discussion back on track. Carlo was by the window, quiet, fingers sliding across his tablet, probably handling something else.
I listened. Nodded when I needed to. Said a word here and there. Mostly waited for it to end.
My phone buzzed. I glanced down. Carmen.
"Sir, the young miss finished her ballet lesson today. The new teacher is very good. She's very happy."
I typed back "Got it" and flipped the phone face-down.
New teacher. Last week, when Juliet threw a fit about changing teachers, Carmen spent half the call explaining—the old one was too strict, the young miss refused to go. I told her to switch. Find someone who'd make Juliet want to show up.
Carmen never dropped the ball. If she said good, it was good.
After the meeting, Rocco trailed behind me, rattling off the afternoon's business in clipped sentences. I listened, walked, and gave instructions. Got in the car. Headed back to the Upper East Side.
When the car turned onto that street, I saw her.
Juliet stood on the steps in her pink practice shorts, hair loose, whipping in the evening wind. Carmen stood beside her, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder.
Before the car stopped, she was already running down the steps.
I pushed the door open. She crashed into me, looked up, face bursting with the kind of excitement that couldn't sit still—like a shaken soda about to fizz over.
"Daddy! The new teacher came today!"
"I know." I picked her up, headed inside. "Where's your jacket?"
"Because I had to wait for you!" She didn't care about the question. Both hands grabbed my collar, her whole body leaning into my face. "Daddy, she's so good. She said I have talent, that I learn fast!"
I set her down, crouched to take off my shoes. Carmen took my coat. Juliet stuck to my side, talking and gesturing, arms stretched wide—probably demonstrating something from class. Nearly knocked over the vase on the foyer table. I nudged it further in. Told her to slow down. She pulled her arms back a fraction but didn't stop talking.
