Chapter 4 – THE HOME SHE WANTED TO FIND

“Somewhere you couldn’t find them?”

I stared at Ricardo.

He stood beside the private dining-room door with Leo asleep against his shoulder.

For a moment, I wondered whether I’d heard him correctly.

Ricardo adjusted his son’s weight.

“Elena said she couldn’t keep raising him around the business.”

“And you thought she meant leaving you permanently?”

“She said she’d do whatever was necessary.”

He looked toward the restaurant’s empty tables.

“I took that as an answer.”

I didn’t know enough about their marriage to disagree.

But I knew what fear could make people say.

And I knew how easily a frightened person could hear a threat where someone else was begging for change.

“Did you ask her where she wanted to go?”

Ricardo gave a tired smile.

“I asked who she thought would protect her better than I could.”

It wasn’t the same question.

He seemed to realize that before I said anything.

The following morning, I arrived at Il Destino expecting to be fired.

Marco was waiting beside the employee lockers.

“Clara, my office.”

My stomach tightened.

Rent was due Tuesday.

I had sixty-three dollars left after buying groceries.

Losing even one shift would be a disaster.

Marco closed his office door.

“What happened last night?”

I kept my hands folded.

“I helped a child who was frightened.”

“You approached a table you weren’t assigned to.”

“Yes.”

“You ignored my instructions.”

“Yes.”

“And you told one of the most dangerous men in Brooklyn how to handle his son.”

I looked down.

“Yes.”

Marco sighed heavily.

“Do you understand the position that put me in?”

“I do.”

He studied me.

“Then you understand why I should fire you.”

I swallowed.

“Yes.”

Marco leaned back.

“Ricardo Moretti called me this morning.”

My heart sank.

“He asked whether you’d be working today.”

I looked up.

“Why?”

“Apparently, his son has spent breakfast asking for the woman who fixes bears.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

Marco opened a drawer and removed a small envelope.

“Your overtime from last night.”

I stared at it.

“And your regular shifts are staying exactly where they are.”

Relief washed through me so quickly that I had to grip the chair.

Marco’s expression softened.

“Clara, I’m not heartless. But next time you decide to risk your life, could you at least warn your manager?”

I managed a weak smile.

“I’ll try.”

He shook his head.

“Go set the lunch tables.”

Ricardo returned that afternoon.

Not with a full security detail.

Just Dante, standing several steps behind him, and Leo holding Benny beneath one arm.

The boy spotted me near the window.

“Clara!”

He ran toward me.

I crouched.

“There’s my favorite patient.”

Leo held out the bear.

“Benny.”

I took it carefully.

“Let’s see the damage.”

The missing ear had been torn along an old seam.

I could repair it with a needle and strong thread.

Leo watched me examine the fabric.

“Fix good?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Ricardo approached.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Marco immediately offered his office.

But I glanced toward the dining room.

Leo seemed comfortable here now.

“Could we sit by the window?”

Ricardo followed my gaze.

“Of course.”

We settled at a quiet table.

Dante remained by the entrance.

Ricardo looked exhausted.

He hadn’t shaved.

There were dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Leo slept through the night,” he said.

“That’s good.”

“For the first time in weeks.”

He looked at me.

“I don’t know what you did.”

“I gave him something he could choose.”

Ricardo nodded slowly.

He glanced at Benny.

“Would you consider helping us a couple of mornings a week?”

I blinked.

“Helping how?”

“Just spending some time with Leo. Until I find a qualified specialist who can help him.”

I looked toward the boy.

He was drawing circles on a napkin with a green crayon Marco had found.

“Mr. Moretti, I’m a waitress. I’m not a therapist.”

“I know.”

“He needs someone trained to help with what he went through.”

“I’ve already asked our pediatrician for recommendations.”

That reassured me.

Ricardo continued.

“I’m not asking you to fix him. I’m asking whether he’d benefit from seeing someone he trusts while we figure things out.”

I considered it.

“I can’t lose my job here.”

“You won’t.”

“And I’d need regular hours. I can’t keep changing my schedule.”

“Understood.”

I looked at him.

“And no shouting at staff when things go wrong.”

Ricardo almost smiled.

“You negotiate like a union representative.”

“My landlord doesn’t accept reputation as payment.”

That made him laugh.

An actual laugh.

Leo looked up.

“Daddy funny?”

“Not usually,” I said.

Ricardo raised an eyebrow.

“Careful.”

I smiled.

For the next hour, Leo drew while I repaired Benny’s ear with a small sewing kit from the restaurant.

Ricardo watched quietly.

At one point, Leo took the green crayon and drew a large uneven square.

Then a yellow door.

Then three circles beneath it.

“House,” he announced.

I looked at the drawing.

“That’s a nice house.”

“Mama house.”

Ricardo leaned forward.

“What house, buddy?”

Leo pointed to the circles.

“Mama. Me.”

Then he tapped the third.

“Daddy.”

Ricardo stared.

“Daddy lives there?”

Leo nodded.

“Mama said.”

I looked at Ricardo.

He looked shaken.

“Can I see that?”

Leo pushed the napkin toward him.

Ricardo studied the drawing for a long time.

Then he took something from his wallet.

A small folded card.

He placed it beside the napkin.

It was a card from a real-estate agent.

On the back, in Elena’s handwriting, were three words.

Ask about Sunday.

“I found this in her purse after she died,” Ricardo said.

“I assumed she was looking for a place to disappear.”

He looked at Leo’s drawing.

“She kept asking me to take Sunday off.”

I didn’t speak.

Ricardo swallowed.

“I thought she wanted time to argue about custody.”

Leo pointed at the drawing again.

“Daddy come.”

Ricardo’s eyes filled.

He looked at me.

“What if she wasn’t planning to leave me?”

I glanced at Dante.

The security chief had gone very still.

Ricardo noticed.

“Dante.”

The man approached.

“Boss?”

Ricardo held up the real-estate card.

“Did you know Elena was looking at houses?”

Dante stared at it.

Then he answered.

“Yes.”

Ricardo’s face changed.

“How?”

Dante hesitated.

“Because she asked me to take her to see one.”

“When?”

The security chief lowered his eyes.

“The morning she died.”

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