Chapter 10 - Maria's Box
Sophia did not sleep after Dante announced that he would marry Vanessa in three days.
He called it strategy.
Her mind called it a wedding.
By dawn, she hated herself for caring about the difference.
Dante did not belong to her.
He had never promised her anything.
He had touched her cheek once and held her hand in a car while his mother was being rushed to a hospital.
That was not a future.
It was barely a beginning.
Still, the thought of him standing beside Vanessa at an altar settled beneath Sophia's ribs like a stone.
At seven in the morning, Elena woke and demanded coffee.
The cardiologist refused.
Elena threatened to change hospitals.
Dante told her she was not allowed to threaten the staff.
Elena told him to get married somewhere else if he wanted obedience.
Sophia laughed before she could stop herself.
Elena looked at her.
"Good."
"What?"
"You have been walking around like someone canceled Christmas."
Sophia glanced at Dante.
He was standing near the window speaking quietly with Enzo.
"Your son is getting married in two days."
"I heard."
"You don't seem pleased."
"I have never been pleased."
Sophia lowered her voice.
"He says it is a trap."
Elena snorted.
"Men say many foolish things when they are afraid to admit they have a plan they cannot control."
"You think he should cancel it?"
"I think my son should decide whether he is a man or a treaty."
Sophia looked away.
Elena squeezed her hand.
"And I think you should stop pretending you feel nothing."
Sophia's throat tightened.
"Feeling something does not make it right."
"No."
Elena's eyes softened.
"It only makes it true."
Dante approached before Sophia could answer.
"We need to talk about the metal box."
Sophia stood.
"I want to go to my father's apartment."
"Enzo can search it."
"No."
Dante frowned.
"Why not?"
"Because everything connected to my mother is becoming evidence to men who did not know her."
"If that box exists, I want to find it myself."
Dante held her gaze.
Then he nodded.
"I am coming with you."
Sophia almost objected.
Then she remembered the man testing her apartment door.
"Fine."
Anthony was being kept in a furnished Brooklyn apartment under guard.
When Sophia entered, he stood from the couch so quickly his coffee spilled.
"Soph."
She did not hug him.
"Where is Mom's metal box?"
Anthony's face changed.
That was enough.
"You know exactly what I mean."
He looked at Dante standing behind her.
"Why is he here?"
"Because half of Mom's secrets apparently belong to his dead father."
Anthony sat down.
"I don't want to talk about this."
Sophia stared at him.
"You took five thousand dollars from Vanessa and lied about me on tape."
"You do not get to decide what you want anymore."
Anthony flinched.
"The box is gone."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Dante's voice came from behind Sophia.
"Bad answer."
Anthony's shoulders stiffened.
"You don't intimidate me in front of my daughter."
Dante remained calm.
"You sold your daughter's name for five thousand dollars."
"I don't need to intimidate you."
Anthony looked away.
Sophia almost thanked Dante.
She stopped herself.
This was her father.
Her anger to carry.
"When did you last see the box?"
Anthony rubbed his forehead.
"After Maria died."
"Where?"
"Our old apartment."
"What was inside?"
"Papers."
"What papers?"
"I never read them all."
Sophia laughed in disbelief.
"You had something Mom risked her life to protect and you never read it?"
Anthony's eyes filled with shame.
"Reading wasn't the problem."
Sophia understood before he finished.
"You sold something."
Anthony said nothing.
Her stomach turned.
"Dad."
"I needed money."
"Of course you did."
"Sophia."
"What did you sell?"
Anthony looked toward the window.
"A ledger."
Dante moved closer.
"To whom?"
"I don't know his real name."
"When?"
"Nine years ago."
Sophia stared at him.
"Mom had been dead three years."
"I was in trouble."
"You are always in trouble."
Her voice rose despite her effort to control it.
"You sold her papers while I was working two jobs to keep you from losing your apartment."
Anthony covered his face.
"I am sorry."
"Stop saying that like it pays anything back."
The room fell silent.
Dante did not intervene.
Sophia forced herself to breathe.
"What did the man look like?"
Anthony lowered his hands.
"Young."
"Dark hair."
"Maybe thirty."
"He had a scar near his chin."
Dante and Enzo exchanged a look.
Sophia saw it.
"You know him."
Dante nodded.
"Paul Mercer."
Anthony's face went pale.
"The lawyer?"
"Yes."
Sophia closed her eyes.
Mercer had possessed at least one of Maria's ledgers for nine years.
Yet he was still searching for the box.
That meant the box contained something more important.
"Where is it?" Sophia asked again.
Anthony shook his head.
"I told you."
"You told me you lost it."
"I did."
Dante watched him carefully.
"What did Maria call the box?"
Anthony blinked.
"What?"
"Did she have a name for it?"
Anthony looked confused.
"The winter box."
Sophia's breath caught.
Her mother had used that phrase.
Not often.
Usually around Christmas.
Put the winter things away.
Check the winter box.
Sophia had always assumed she meant decorations.
"Where did Mom keep the Christmas decorations?"
Anthony frowned.
"Storage cage in the basement."
Sophia was already reaching for her coat.
Their old Queens apartment building had changed owners twice, but Anthony had never surrendered the basement storage cage because nobody remembered it existed.
The superintendent recognized Sophia after several minutes and a photograph from her phone.
"Your father still has junk down there."
"Can we see it?"
The superintendent looked at Dante and the two security men behind him.
"I was going to say no, but I have suddenly reconsidered."
Sophia almost laughed.
The basement smelled of dust, damp concrete, and old cardboard.
Cage 17 sat behind a boiler pipe.
Anthony's key still worked.
Inside were broken chairs, Christmas lights, boxes of children's clothes, and a plastic tree missing half its branches.
Sophia stood among the remains of her childhood.
For a moment, the investigation disappeared.
She saw her mother wrapping ornaments in newspaper.
She saw Nonna Teresa shouting that artificial trees were an American tragedy.
She saw Anthony before grief and gambling hollowed him out.
Dante remained outside the cage.
He gave her privacy without being asked.
Sophia noticed that too.
She opened the first box.
Nothing.
Second box.
Old blankets.
Third box.
School papers.
At the bottom of the fourth box lay her mother's recipe books.
Sophia sat on the concrete floor.
"I thought these were gone."
Dante crouched several feet away.
"What are they?"
"Her recipes."
Sophia opened the first book.
Tomato sauce.
Almond cookies.
Sunday gravy.
Pastina.
Her eyes stung.
She turned another page.
A small key had been taped beside the recipe for caponata.
Sophia stopped breathing.
"Dante."
He came closer.
She held up the key.
The metal box was not in the cage.
But perhaps Maria had hidden the key where only Sophia would someday look.
They searched for another twenty minutes.
Then Dante noticed the bottom of an old sewing basket was too thick.
He lifted the lining.
A gray metal box sat beneath it.
Sophia stared.
Twenty-three years of secrets fit inside something smaller than a laptop case.
She inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Dante stepped back.
"You open it."
Sophia looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because it is your mother's."
Her throat tightened.
She lifted the lid.
Inside were three ledgers, a stack of photographs, a cassette tape, two sealed envelopes, and a small notebook.
The first envelope was addressed to Sophia.
The second was addressed to Elena Moretti.
Sophia touched her own name.
Before she could open it, Enzo's phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed instantly.
"When?"
Dante stood.
"What happened?"
Enzo ended the call.
"Anthony's guard was attacked in the building stairwell."
Sophia rose so fast the box nearly fell.
"My father?"
"Gone."
Her stomach dropped.
The secure phone in Sophia's purse vibrated at the same moment.
A new photograph appeared.
Anthony sat in the back of a car with tape across his mouth.
Beneath the image was a message.
May you like
Bring Maria's box to the wedding.
Come alone, or your father finally pays his own debt.
