“Because there isn’t a space in this system I don’t control. I really need you to understand that.”
She doesn’t argue this time.
This time, she understands.
The knock comes once. Luca enters without waiting for permission.
Good. It means the matter is not optional.
Evie hears it, too. I watch her register the timing, the interruption, the way Luca’s attention moves to me and not to her.
She’s still angry. She should be.
Luca holds a sealed envelope in his left hand. “From Calabria.”
Dante.
Evie goes very still.
I don’t look away from her when I take it. “Leave us.”
Luca hesitates only long enough to tell me there is more inside the envelope than paper. A warning in the pause. Then he exits, closing the door behind him.
Evie’s voice comes lower now. “Is he dead?”
“No.”
“Pity.”
There’s no tremor in it. No performance. She means it.
I break the seal. The first page is the official report from the rehabilitation estate. Structured. Clean—too clean. Attendance logs. Behavioral notes. Medical compliance. Reduced drinking. No gambling debts incurred in the last six weeks. No unauthorized calls. No violent incidents.
“Progress.” That’s the word they use.
I turn the page. There’s a second report beneath it. Handwritten by Father Anselmo, who has never been sentimental a day in his life. Dante has requested Confession three times. Dante has asked whether restitution can be made to the Brennan family. Dante has said Seane Brennan’s name. As if the dead man belongs to him now because guilt has finally taught him possession.
My fingers still on the page. Evie notices. Of course she notices.
“What?” she asks.
I close the file halfway. “Nothing that concerns you.”
Her laugh is immediate and sharp. “Your son killed my father. I think we passed concern a long time ago.”
I look at her then. She’s standing in front of my desk with fury still held tight in her body, but beneath it lies something colder. Fear, maybe. Not of Dante returning. Not exactly.
Of what his return would mean.
I understand because the same question has already opened inside me. If Dante reforms, what does the system require? If Dante becomes remorseful, does his debt change shape? If my son comes back disciplined, contrite, usable, does the arrangement revive?
Evie Brennan was promised to him. The contract was signed. Her father is dead, but the alliance is not. Not on paper. Not tothe council. Not to men like Giulio, who prefer women turned into symbols because symbols do not argue.
Evie watches me, too carefully. “They want to bring him back.”
“They are assessing him,” I say.
“That means yes.”
