The police wagon is waiting at the foot of the grand stone staircase as I’m pulled quickly through the front doors, the elegant guests quiet as they watch me struggle against the policemen’s strong arms. The horses whinny and stamp at the ground, eager to be on their way.
“Wait! Please!” I cry. “This isn’t right!” I feel like I’m in a nightmare and can’t wake up.
There is a shout in Italian as I’m led down the stairs. “Stop!”
I turn, almost collapsing with relief. Someone heard me. Someone will understand. Paolo is rushing down the stairs after us, his gleaming dress shoes barely touching each step.
His eyes are wet with tears as he stops in front of me. “What happened?” he shouts, just inches from my face. “Were you so jealous of her perfection?”
My heart skips a beat. He doesn’t believe me. I’m completely and totally alone. “I didn’t do anything! I’d never hurt Alessandra.”
Tears spill down his cheeks as he shakes his head in disbelief. “She loved you like a sister. Alessandra was the most perfect creature. And you destroyed her.”
The policemen say something I don’t understand and pull me toward the open back doors of the wagon. My legs refuse to carry me another step, so they lift me roughly and deposit me on one of the wooden benches lining the sides.
Paolo grips the edge of the open window and looks up at me with hatred in his eyes. “All I want to know is, why? Why would you do such a thing?”
I turn toward him, desperate for the words that will make him believe me. “I didn’t. You have to believe me.”
The wagon rocks as the policemen mount the front bench and the wheels jerk to life as the horses surge forward. Paolo stands at the bottom of the steps, hands at his sides, staring at me as the wagon races to our unknown destination, his figure getting smaller and smaller until we turn the corner and he’s finally out of sight.
Giacomo leans over toward Veronique. “You should tell them that you trained to be a doctor before you went into research.”
His words bring me back to the present, to the Veronique and Cole of the now instead of the Alessandra and Clarissa from before. I realize I have no idea what we’re talking about. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
Giacomo looks shocked as I speak, but a small smile appears on Veronique’s lips.
“I was just saying that Veronique studied to be a doctor. That’s how she knew what to do with all of that blood,” Giacomo repeats.
“I didn’t know you were a doctor,” I say, making a small attempt to pick up the conversation. I can still picture the hurt in Paolo’s eyes.
“I didn’t finish,” she says slowly. “Not the medical part, anyway. I’m in research now.”
“Still,” I say, trying to shake off the memory. “The sight of blood would make most people run screaming out of the room instead of jumping in and doing what you did.” I hesitate but lean toward her. “Listen, there are some things I want to talk to you about. Can you meet me tomorrow?”
“Nicole?” Dad is looking at me in alarm. “When did you learn Italian?”
I stare at him. What a random thing to say. “What are you talking about?”
“Italian,” he says, his eyes concerned. “You’re sitting there speaking flawless Italian with Veronique and Giacomo.”
The room gets quiet as everyone seems to lean toward me. I search my brain for a rational-sounding answer, still not at all sure what happened. “We’re learning it in school,” I say quickly. “Enrichment classes.”
Kat glances over at me. “I thought you were failing Spanish,” she says. “Again.”
“Well,” I laugh, which sounds fake and forced even to me, “Spanish and Italian are really close—”
“And she’s been studying with me,” Griffon breaks in. “I’m planning on taking a year abroad in Italy, so Cole’s been helping me work on my languages.”
“Your accent is perfect,” Veronique says. Her voice is steady, but she’s looking at me intensely. “Almost as if you were born to it.”
Mom bursts into the room carrying a tray of cookies, and everyone turns to help her clear a place at the coffee table. I smile gratefully at Griffon, while everyone else seems to forget about the fact that I can suddenly speak in tongues. Italian tongues, anyway.
Mom glances over at Kat, slumped in the chair by the window. “Honey, why don’t you play something for us next?” She turns to Veronique. “Kat took piano lessons for years. She doesn’t have the skill that you do, but she’s quite the little musician in her own right.”
I wince at her words, amazed as always that Mom apparently can’t hear what comes out of her mouth. With the rest of her body totally still, Kat turns just her head in Mom’s direction. “I don’t think so.”
Mom straightens up. “Oh, come on, Katherine,” she says. “Give us a tune. You used to love playing Chopin. You and Nicole played the most marvelous duets together.”
Kat stands up and runs her hands over her dress. In a voice much quieter and steadier than I would have thought possible, she says, “We’re not trained monkeys, you know. Just because Cole can’t be your after-dinner entertainment anymore, it doesn’t mean that I have to make a fool of myself.” Nodding to Giacomo and Veronique, she crosses the room in four strides and heads down the hallway.
Mom smoothes her hair back and plasters a smile on her face as if nothing’s happened. “Well, then,” she says in a singsong voice. “Who wants coffee?”
Nineteen
As the door shuts behind Veronique, I can see Griffon relax for the first time this entire evening.
“That went well,” Mom says, scurrying around the living room picking up cups and napkins.
“Thanks for inviting me, Mrs. Ryan,” Griffon says, turning the full intensity of his smile on her.
She smiles back at him. “We’re happy to have you,” she says, glancing at me in a meaningful way that I pretend not to notice.
I can hear Dad washing dishes in the kitchen and figure it’s best to ask when they aren’t together. “Is it okay if we go out and meet Rayne?”
“I don’t know, honey,” Mom says. “You just got out of the hospital.”
“The accident was more than a week ago,” I say. Mom hesitates just a second, but I know she’s lining up more excuses in her head. I jump in again. “I’ve barely gone anywhere since I’ve been home. Can’t we just go out to get ice cream?” I ask quickly. “And maybe to the café. It is Friday night.”
She glances at the clock. “Okay,” she agrees. “Just be home before midnight. And take your phone.”
“I will,” I say from the hallway, already handing Griffon his jacket. We slip out the front door before she can change her mind.
As soon as we’re down the steps and out of sight of the house, Griffon stops and kisses me, pulling me up to him so quickly that my feet actually leave the sidewalk. “I’ve been dying to do that for hours,” he says, setting me back down on the ground.