Chapter 4 - THE GIRL WHO SAVED THE PHOTOGRAPH
Emma woke at nine forty-three.
Dominic had been awake for hours.
He was sitting by the window reading messages when she opened her eyes.
“Is it my birthday?”
“Not yet.”
She groaned.
“Then why am I awake?”
Dominic almost smiled.
“Excellent question.”
Emma sat up.
Then looked around.
Her face changed when she remembered.
“Can I go to my room?”
Dominic put the phone down.
“Yes.”
“Is Ava still there?”
“Probably.”
Emma immediately looked worried.
Dominic noticed.
“You’re not responsible for what happens next.”
“What happens next?”
“That’s adult business.”
She frowned.
“I hate adult business.”
“So do I.”
They walked down the hall together.
Emma stopped outside her bedroom.
The door was open.
Ava sat on the bed.
Fifteen years old.
Blond like Camille.
Wearing an oversized sweatshirt.
Her suitcases were still on the floor.
But something else was beside her.
One of Isabella’s framed photographs.
The beach picture.
The glass was still cracked.
Emma stopped.
“You found it.”
Ava nodded.
“I took it out of the trash.”
Dominic looked at her.
Ava swallowed.
“Before your people came downstairs.”
Emma walked toward her.
“Why?”
Ava looked embarrassed.
“Because I knew it was wrong.”
Dominic said nothing.
Ava looked at him.
“Mom told me Emma didn’t care about the pictures.”
Emma frowned.
“I care.”
“I know.”
Ava looked at the floor.
“I know now.”
Emma touched the broken frame.
“Mom’s face has a crack.”
“I’m sorry.”
Ava’s eyes filled.
“I dropped it when I took it out.”
Emma stared.
Ava looked like she expected anger.
Instead Emma said:
“It’s okay.”
Dominic almost interrupted.
He had learned to hate those words.
Then Emma continued:
“We can get new glass.”
Ava started crying.
Dominic looked away.
He gave them privacy.
Then Emma asked:
“Did you ask for my room?”
Ava wiped her face.
“Yeah.”
Dominic looked back.
Ava did not try to hide.
“I liked the balcony.”
Emma nodded.
“You could’ve asked.”
“I did.”
“Me?”
Ava looked ashamed.
“No.”
“Then you didn’t ask.”
Dominic almost smiled.
Emma Moretti had inherited more from Isabella than her eyes.
Ava gave a tiny laugh.
“You’re right.”
Then she became serious.
“I thought you were staying in one of the other bedrooms.”
Emma looked confused.
“I wanted my room.”
“I know.”
Ava glanced at Dominic.
“Mom said you were being dramatic.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
Ava continued quickly.
“I didn’t know you were sleeping downstairs until yesterday.”
“Didn’t you wonder where I was?”
Ava looked down.
“Yes.”
The honest answer was ugly.
But honest.
Emma sat beside her.
“Why didn’t you ask?”
Ava whispered:
“Because things were easier when I didn’t.”
Dominic felt that sentence.
He suspected half the adults in the house could say the same thing.
Emma thought about it.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
Not forgiveness.
Just understanding.
Ava stood.
“I’m moving my things.”
Emma immediately said:
“You don’t have to leave the house.”
Ava looked at Dominic.
He answered.
“You and Ethan have done nothing that requires punishment.”
Ava swallowed.
“My mom?”
“That is between your mother and me.”
“Anthony?”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“That is between Anthony and a great many people.”
Ava stared.
Then:
“He told Mom you were going to leave her.”
Dominic looked at her.
“What?”
Ava hesitated.
“He said you still loved Isabella more than her.”
Emma looked toward Dominic.
His chest tightened.
Ava continued.
“He said you were never going to make Mom part of the family because you didn’t trust anybody.”
Dominic folded his arms.
“And what did your mother say?”
“She cried.”
“When?”
“A lot.”
The answer surprised him.
Ava looked toward Emma.
“Anthony told her you used Emma to keep Mom in second place.”
Dominic stared.
“He said that?”
Ava nodded.
“He said every time Mom tried to change something in the house, you would choose what Isabella wanted.”
Dominic thought about it.
There was some truth buried inside the lie.
He had never let Camille redecorate Isabella’s garden room.
Had refused to change certain holiday traditions.
Kept Isabella’s place in photographs.
Maybe he had expected Camille to join a family without ever making room for her own history.
That was something he would have to face.
Later.
It did not excuse cruelty to Emma.
Ava continued.
“Anthony told Mom if she wanted you to see her as family, she had to stop acting like a guest.”
Dominic’s expression darkened.
Emma quietly said:
“That’s what Camille told me.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What?” Dominic asked.
Emma rubbed the cuff of his old sweatshirt.
“She said if I wanted Ava and Ethan to feel like family, I had to stop acting like the house belonged to me.”
Dominic looked at Ava.
She had gone pale.
Emma continued.
“She said I should act like a guest for a while.”
Dominic felt anger rise again.
Ava whispered:
“Emma…”
The child shrugged.
“I tried.”
Dominic turned away.
For a second he had to.
Because he could not let Emma see what that sentence did to him.
She had been trying to become smaller so everybody else could feel comfortable.
Behind him, Ava said:
“This is my fault.”
Dominic turned.
“No.”
Ava looked startled.
“You wanted a bedroom.”
He continued.
“That was selfish.”
She flinched.
“But you are fifteen.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“The adults were supposed to be adults.”
Ava nodded.
Then said:
“There’s something else.”
Dominic waited.
“Anthony came to Mom’s room almost every night you were gone.”
Emma immediately said:
“I told Daddy.”
“I know.”
Ava looked uncomfortable.
“But sometimes he didn’t stay.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“He’d come in.”
She pointed toward the far side of Camille’s suite.
“Then leave through the terrace door.”
Dominic knew the terrace.
It connected to an exterior staircase running toward Isabella’s garden room.
“Where would he go?”
“I don’t know.”
Emma answered:
“Garden room.”
Dominic looked at his daughter.
“You saw him?”
“Twice.”
“When?”
“At night.”
“Why were you awake?”
Emma hesitated.
“Camille locked the kitchen.”
Dominic stared.
“What?”
Ava went completely still.
Emma looked confused by their reaction.
“She said kids don’t need snacks after eight.”
Dominic crouched.
“Why were you going to the kitchen?”
“I was hungry.”
“Had you eaten dinner?”
She shrugged.
“Some.”
Ava suddenly whispered:
“Mom stopped letting Emma eat with us.”
Dominic slowly stood.
“What?”
Emma immediately tried to protect Camille.
“Only some nights.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
Ava answered.
“Most nights this week.”
Dominic looked at her.
“Why?”
Ava’s eyes filled.
“Mom said Emma made dinners uncomfortable.”
“How?”
“She asked when you were coming home.”
Emma stared at the floor.
Dominic felt something inside him go very cold.
Ava continued.
“Mom said everybody was tired of hearing about you.”
Emma whispered:
“I only asked twice.”
Dominic walked to the door.
Then stopped.
“Marco.”
The guard appeared almost immediately.
“Boss.”
“Bring breakfast upstairs.”
Emma smiled.
“Pancakes?”
“As many as you want.”
Ava hesitated.
Dominic looked at her.
“You too.”
She looked surprised.
“I’m not hungry.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
Emma giggled.
For the first time since Dominic came home, the room felt almost normal.
Almost.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
He looked at it.
His face changed.
Dominic noticed.
“What?”
Marco stepped into the hallway.
Dominic followed.
“Talk.”
“Anthony asked to use the bathroom.”
“And?”
“He was escorted.”
Dominic waited.
Marco swallowed.
“One of the guards was his guy.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“Was?”
“They’re both gone.”
Silence.
Dominic looked down the hallway.
“Kane?”
Marco nodded.
“Gone.”
Dominic did not shout.
He did not curse.
He simply looked back into Emma’s room.
His daughter was repairing the cracked photograph with Ava.
Inside his own house, he had spent twelve years trusting the wrong man.
Now that man was somewhere outside.
And Kane knew exactly where Emma slept.
Dominic looked at Marco.
“Lock the estate.”
Then he stopped himself.
Emma had already lived four nights feeling trapped.
He changed the order.
“No.”
Marco frowned.
“Boss?”
“Secure the perimeter.”
Dominic looked toward his daughter.
“But nobody makes this house feel like a prison.”
Marco nodded.
Then Vincent called.
Dominic answered.
“What?”
Vincent’s voice was low.
“Kane just contacted three crews.”
Dominic walked farther from Emma’s door.
“What did he say?”
“That you’ve lost control.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“Anything else?”
“He wants a meeting tonight.”
“With whom?”
“Everybody.”
Dominic looked through the window at Manhattan in the distance.
“What does he want?”
Vincent paused.
Then:
“Your chair.”
Dominic’s smile disappeared.
May you like
Anthony Kane had finally stopped pretending.
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