Nario is looking at me like a fellow actor who is waiting for me to speak my line.
“Benjamin,” I sigh, “it’s as simple as this. We cut your fingers off one by one until you give us a location. Or you give us a location now. But it ends the same way each time. You know that as well as I do. You’ve been on my side of this process.”
He looks down at his hands as though there is a piano under his fingertips.
“There’s this pizza joint downtown with a big neon slice out front.”
“The Slice,” Nario nods. “I know it. Good place.”
Benjamin smiles, looking almost sick. “Daddy thought it’d be a good idea to have an Italian front for our Irish operation. Sort of ironic, get it? So there you go. Do I get a meal now?”
I stand, nodding. “Take him to the next room, Nario,” I say. “But—” I put my hand on his shoulder as he makes to stand. “If we find out he’s lying, take this finger.” I reach down, grab his hand, and pinch his middle finger between my forefinger and thumb. “At the second knuckle. Right here. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” Nario replies.
I leave the room as Nario presses the keypad buttons to slide away the false wall. Walking down the hallway, I know my mind should be on business. But she’s there, shimmering in the background, refusing to be ignored.
I shake my head. These are unwanted thoughts. Best to disregard them completely.
12
Hazel
It’s late as I sit at my window desk, evaluating the exam papers that Ubert printed out for me, trying not to let the little doodle hearts Lucille has drawn around each question affect her grades.
A few days have passed since the dinner. Carlo, the jerk supreme, has kept his distance. I’ve mostly spent it with Alda and Emily, or on my own, reading—or rather, trying to read, trying not to think.
But primarily, I’ve been mostly failing at convincing myself that I really do hate Carlo. That he is a jerk. Because no matter how many times I think it—Carlo’s a jerk, like a mantra—I can’t make myself believe it. Last night, Ubert came with two giant crates of clothes, some tomboy-ish, some elegant, all dazzling. I knew that the old Hazel would tear the clothes to shreds as a small rebellion, or fashion a rope out of them for an escape attempt.
But I found myself trying them on in front of the full-length mirror, wishing Carlo was there to see me.
So, basically, I need to get a fucking grip.
I turn back to the paper, but now it’s Dad’s face I see, all twisted up as though I am the biggest disappointment in his life. I hear the soft keys of Chopin’s Nocturne playing in the background as Dad overturns the table and I look to my big brother for support. But he’s ignoring us, pretending we didn’t exist. Dad ruined him, just like he tried to ruin me—
I grab the edge of the desk and push my chair back. I’d go down to the gym for a run if I hadn’t already done fifteen miles today. Even running isn’t having the same calming effect it usually does.
Instead, I pull on the knee-length coat Carlo sent me and walk through the mansion, which I am finally learning my way around now, toward the big double doors that lead to the garden. The house is quiet, but distantly I think I can hear Emily tapping from the attic, or maybe it’s just the soft wind creaking through the wood.
The garden is freaking humongous, with an eerie, almost alien quality at night. Massive trees rise up on all sides, obscuring the surrounding walls, and cute little white lights are strung from tree to tree. In the middle, there’s a giant fountain, similarly glittering with lights, with a statue of two cherubs frolicking as water gushes from their open mouths. I walk past it all, farther than I’ve been, following a path that twists and turns until I end up at a hidden pond.
It’s more overgrown here. The plants reach almost all the way down to poke at the surface of the water. I’m guessing the gardeners have been ordered to leave this area alone, though I can’t think why. Everywhere else is perfectly manicured, like Buckingham Palace.
The pond is large. Peaceful. I find myself letting go of my worries as I watch the stars move across the surface in soft