Chapter 3

When I got home, Lorenzo was leaning against the entryway, working a foot into his shoe.

He saw me push the door open, and his brow furrowed. "Where did you go? We agreed we'd sit down at my mother's table tonight. You didn't even pick up your phone. I've been waiting forever."

I changed into my slippers and said nothing.

He pressed again. "I'll bring the car around. Hurry up."

Then he grabbed the keys and left.

I stood in the entryway for a few seconds, put on a jacket, and went out after him anyway.

The moment I pulled open the car door, a cloying, sugary snack smell hit me in the face.

Half a bag of crushed potato chips lay scattered across the passenger seat, along with a few torn candy wrappers, and wedged into the crease of the leather was a sour candy pit that had fallen in at some point.

This was the third time this week.

I'd reminded him plenty of times that the passenger seat wasn't Serafina's snack tray, and that she needed to clear away whatever she finished.

I stood outside the door and didn't move. "How many times have I told you? Take the trash out of the car and throw it away when you get out."

Lorenzo was starting the engine. He glanced over and swept the crumbs down under the seat with one hand, careless about it. "Fine, fine, I'll deal with it right now, okay? Just get in. Don't keep my mother waiting."

I looked at him, then bent down and got into the back seat.

When we reached the Falcone house, the heavy front door stood half open, and Serafina's laughter tangled with Donna Frost's, drifting out into the hall past the man posted near the entrance who dipped his head to me as I passed.

She saw me come in and smiled sweetly. "You're here! Donna Frost asked me to come help. She said we'd have a full table tonight."

Donna Frost sat at the head of the table and waved me over. "Now that you're here, go set out the bowls and chopsticks. Serafina's been busy all afternoon. Let her rest."

"Oh, and there are a few glasses in the kitchen sink that still need washing. Wash those first, then come eat."

I stepped past them into the kitchen.

The bowls and plates were stacked in the sink. I washed them one by one, dried them, set them away, then took the good porcelain from the cupboard and carried it to the table. By the time all the dishes were out and the bowls and chopsticks were laid, and I came through carrying the last soup bowl, the table was already full.

Serafina sat at Donna Frost's right hand, and the matriarch was spooning barbecue ribs onto her plate with her own hands. "You're too thin, tesoro. You really should eat more."

Lorenzo sat on Serafina's other side and, without a thought, moved the plate of salt-and-pepper shrimp she couldn't reach right in front of her.

Then he casually picked the ginger slivers out of her bowl and set them on his own plate.

The three of them talked and laughed, Donna Frost patting the back of Serafina's hand as she told stories about the girl's childhood, about the debt of honor that had brought her under this roof.

Lorenzo listened with his head bowed, a doting smile at the corner of his mouth.

My place had been at the corner of the table the whole time, the chair pulled a little away from the edge.

The bowl and chopsticks were set out at the very edge, like a seat added in at the last minute. No hand had reached across to fill my plate. In this house, who the Donna served with her own hands was a ranking read aloud without a single word, and mine had stayed untouched.

I reached up, untied the apron, folded it, and left it on the kitchen counter, then turned and went out the door.

They probably wouldn't even notice that I'd suddenly left.

I had one of the Family's men drive me to the physician's.

After they let me in, I went into the exam room. "Doctor, I need you to schedule me for the procedure. I want to end the pregnancy."