Chapter 2 - The Envelope
Chloe made it three steps into the kitchen before Marco caught up with her.
"What did you do?"
She kept walking toward the service station.
"I took an order."
"You corrected Gabriel Costello in front of six men."
"Technically, I corrected his mother's dinner."
Marco moved in front of her and lowered his voice.
"Chloe, people have disappeared for less."
Chloe set the dirty appetizer plates on the counter.
"People also leave bad reviews for overcooked veal, so everyone has problems."
Marco closed his eyes for one long second.
"This is what I meant about being funny when you're nervous."
"I'm not nervous."
Her hands were shaking so badly that two forks clattered together.
Marco looked at them.
Chloe tucked her hands behind her back.
"Fine."
"I'm a little nervous."
A cook slid a pan of risotto toward the pass.
Chloe checked the plate twice even though she knew it was perfect.
She added a clean wineglass to her tray and reached for the bottle of Barolo.
Marco did not move.
"I'm coming with you."
"No."
"That wasn't a question."
"If you walk in there looking like you're escorting me to my execution, they might get ideas."
Marco stared at her.
Chloe lifted the tray.
"Smile."
"I hate you."
"That looks more natural."
She pushed through the doors again.
The VIP room had changed.
The six men were still there.
The folder was still open in front of Gabriel.
The low amber lights still reflected off crystal and polished wood.
But nobody was discussing shipments anymore.
Beatrice was watching the door.
The moment Chloe entered, the older woman's face softened.
Chloe felt the reaction like a hand pressing against her chest.
She had seen people look at Leo that way when they finally realized someone in the room could understand him.
She had never imagined being on the receiving end of that relief.
Chloe set down the risotto.
Beatrice inhaled dramatically and signed with both hands.
Finally, civilization.
Chloe smiled despite herself.
She poured the Barolo.
Gabriel watched every movement.
"What did she say?"
"She likes the smell."
Beatrice narrowed her eyes at Chloe.
Liar.
Chloe signed back beneath the edge of the table.
I'm protecting your son's pride.
Beatrice's mouth twitched.
He has too much of it.
Gabriel leaned back.
"I know you're talking about me."
Chloe looked at him.
"That sounds like a confidence issue."
One of the men at the table looked down quickly to hide a smile.
Gabriel did not smile.
He pointed to the empty chair beside his mother.
"Sit."
Chloe's fingers tightened around the bottle.
"I'm working."
"Sit."
Marco, who had hovered near the door for exactly three seconds, vanished into the kitchen.
Coward.
Chloe put the bottle down and sat beside Beatrice.
Gabriel folded his hands.
"How long have you known sign language?"
"Since I was eight."
"Your brother taught you?"
"We learned together."
"How long was he deaf?"
Chloe looked at him sharply.
"His whole life."
"And he died two years ago."
Her breathing stopped for half a beat.
She had told Beatrice that.
She had not told Gabriel.
Then she remembered that Beatrice had been signing in full view of him.
He had understood nothing, but he had been watching Chloe's face.
He had guessed enough.
"Yes."
Gabriel glanced at his mother.
"Her hearing went when I was twenty-six."
Beatrice corrected him with a quick sign.
Twenty-five.
Chloe translated automatically.
"Twenty-five."
Gabriel's jaw shifted.
"Right."
Beatrice looked at him for a long moment.
Then she signed again.
He never learned.
Chloe did not translate.
Gabriel noticed.
"What did she say?"
"Ask her."
His eyes hardened.
"I am asking you."
"She is sitting six inches from you."
The room became painfully quiet.
Beatrice reached for Chloe's hand.
Do not fight with him yet.
Yet?
Beatrice nodded once.
Then she reached into the small black handbag hanging from her chair.
Gabriel's attention sharpened immediately.
"Ma."
Beatrice ignored him.
She removed a cream envelope.
It looked old.
The corners were softened from being handled too many times.
She placed it beneath Chloe's palm.
Chloe stared down at it.
"What is this?"
Beatrice signed slowly.
For you.
Gabriel stood so fast his chair scraped backward.
"No."
Beatrice looked at him.
He pointed at the envelope.
"Give it to me."
His mother did not move.
"Ma."
Beatrice's hands rose.
No.
It was the first sign Chloe recognized without needing to consciously translate it.
Gabriel recognized it too.
His expression darkened.
"You don't hand private family documents to strangers."
Beatrice signed again.
You don't read my hands.
You don't get to decide what I say.
Chloe swallowed.
Gabriel looked at her.
"Translate."
She hesitated.
Beatrice tapped her wrist.
Translate.
Chloe obeyed.
"She says you don't read her hands."
Gabriel's eyes flickered toward his mother.
"And she says you don't get to decide what she says."
One of the men pushed his chair back slightly, as if preparing to leave a room that had suddenly become too personal.
Gabriel noticed.
"Everyone out."
No one argued.
Six expensive suits rose at once.
Within seconds, Chloe was alone with Gabriel and Beatrice.
That made her more nervous than the six men had.
Gabriel came around the table.
"Open it."
Chloe looked at Beatrice.
The older woman nodded.
Inside the envelope was a newspaper clipping.
Chloe recognized the photograph before she read a single word.
Her throat closed.
Leo.
He was nineteen in the picture.
His hair was too long.
His grin was crooked.
He was wearing the green hoodie Chloe had bought him for Christmas because he refused to spend money on clothes.
The headline beneath his photograph read: LOCAL STUDENT KILLED IN LATE-NIGHT HIT-AND-RUN.
Chloe's chair moved backward.
She did not remember standing.
"Where did you get this?"
Beatrice's eyes filled with something that looked painfully close to guilt.
Chloe signed because her voice suddenly felt unreliable.
Where did you get this?
Beatrice answered.
I kept it.
Why?
Because I knew him.
The room tilted.
Chloe gripped the back of her chair.
"What is she saying?"
Gabriel's voice sounded farther away than it was.
Chloe stared at Beatrice.
"She says she knew Leo."
Gabriel went still.
"That's impossible."
Beatrice looked at her son with an expression Chloe could not read.
Then she signed.
He came here.
Two nights before he died.
Chloe forgot to breathe.
"Here?"
Beatrice nodded.
To Il Canto.
He was afraid.
He had seen something.
Chloe's hands began moving too fast.
What did he see?
Beatrice looked toward the closed mahogany doors.
Then toward the ceiling camera in the corner of the room.
For the first time, fear appeared on her face.
She reached across the table and pulled the newspaper clipping back.
On the reverse side, written in small blue ink, were four words.
BLUE ROOM.
11:40.
DON'T TRUST ROCCO.
Chloe read the name twice.
Rocco had been one of the six men sitting at Gabriel's table.
She looked toward the doors he had just walked through.
A shadow moved beneath them.
Someone was standing on the other side.
Beatrice saw it too.
Her fingers closed around Chloe's wrist.
She signed one final word.
May you like
Run.
