Dario Lucari may have not told me everything he knew about Mary Colonia, wife of the head and mother to the first daughter, but no other man will have me because I won’t allow it. No other man will ever lay a hand on me in passion or possession. Not Sergio Agosti. Not some other buyer. No one. I’ll die first.

“She’s overwhelmed by her emotions. It’s normal.”

My eyes are still closed, but I know Dr. Palmeri’s voice. Will I tell him that I’m not feeling emotions right now? Will I tell him that sadness and despair have drained from me, leaving room for nothing but truth?

“When will she get out of bed?” Grandma asks.

“Give her today.” With a rustle of fabric, he stands. “Call me if she’s not up by sunset.”

“All day?” The door to my room creaks. “We have preparations…”

“Hm—”

“Doctor.” I open my eyes.

“Sarah!” Grandma’s at the door. “You’re up.”

“I am.” I address the doctor. “Can you stay?”

“Of course.”

Grandma, not taking a hint, steps in.

“Just the doctor, Gram.” I sit all the way up. I’m out of my muddy clothes and in a nightgown I barely remember putting on.

Grandma hesitates. Palmeri turns to her as he sits back down.

“Can you get her robe?”

She gets my robe off the hook and helps me into it.

“Close the door on your way out,” I say, then add, “please.”

After a moment of consideration, she leaves us alone.

“Sarah,” Palmeri says, “I heard what was found last night. I think it was poor judgment for your brother to bring you along.”

Men seem to have a lot of opinions no one asked for. I don’t have to explain myself or Massimo to him. There’s no time for this nonsense.

“Dario,” I say. “Did they kill him?”

I brace myself for the answer.

“Not yet, as far as I know.”

“What about Oria?”

“Who? The woman they brought in this morning?”

So she’s alive and in the clinic. He’s acting as if he just happened to be around when a patient was dragged in.

“The one with duct tape glue on her face? Yeah.”

“She’s being taken care of. I think it’s best if you just—”

“I need to see Dario. Not through glass this time.”

“I don’t think—”

“You want to see your daughter again?” Too hard. I need to turn down the volume. “Dario’s the only one who knows what happened to her. If she’s alive, he knows where she is. If they kill him, that knowledge dies with him. And they’re going to kill him. I promise you that.”

“I’m starting to doubt he ever saw her at all.”

The comforts of ignorance are tempting, I know that from experience. I need to tempt him back.