The pot of espresso is empty. I haven’t cried much through the entire story. Just enough to tuck a few balls of tissue between my saucer and cup. I skipped the part about me being pregnant. There’s still no proof I am, it’s not important to the story, and the real reason—it’s too painful to bring up.

“His head’s full of hen brains.” Santino flicks his Zippo open and closed.

I don’t know if he’s talking about Dario. If he is, he’s wrong.

“We should have come right away.” Violetta takes my hand. “When Junior told us.”

Junior called them? I’m not sure if that makes him trustworthy or treasonous.

“Codardo stupido,” Santino continues. “Coming back with his tail between his legs. We lost days.”

“You’re not saying that about Dario in his own house.” My fists are clenched. “He did everything he could.”

Santino tsks. “No, no. Remo.”

“He was sent home,” Violetta says.

“Like a baby.”

“And we came right away, but Precious Blood was empty. So Junior said you were here. But Dario’s gone, and now we know why.”

“I abandoned him.” I hold back new tears. “I let him go down there by himself against all of them while I sit here drinking coffee.” I push my cup away so hard it tips, spilling the last of the espresso across the white countertop.

Violetta and Santino look at each other in that way married people do, having a conversation without saying a word.

“I’m going to have a smoke.”

“Santi!” Violetta cries. “You said you threw them away.”

“I did.” He gets up. “I bought more.” He kisses the top of her head and goes out back for his cigarette.

“Okay, well. That’s going great.” She sighs and pushes away her cup without spilling. “Listen. We have a plane. That’s how we got here so quick. We can check on what’s going on down there.”

“Really?” I practically jump out of my seat.

“Well, yeah. But I can’t go personally because I promised not to do anything dangerous, being as I’m pregnant… which is turning out to be a big booboo on my part.”

“No, Violetta.” I can’t believe she’d say getting pregnant was a mistake.

“I mean the promise. One, because I keep them.” More annoyed than betrayed, she jerks her chin at the glass door where Santino enjoys his smoke. “Two, because I’m hamstrung here. I’m not supposed to go, and I don’t want him going alone against all of them.”

“I can go!” I actually do jump out of my chair then.

Her eyes narrow with suspicion—that wasn’t the answer she was expecting. “What do you think you’re going to do if it gets messy?”