“He told me where to find my mother. I’m the only one he’ll tell anything, and my brother’s not going to let me see him again.”

He crosses his legs, tapping his fingertips on his knee.

“Lucari’s angry now,” I continue, using Dario’s last name so I can sound separated from him. “He’ll tell me what we want to know out of spite, just to hurt me.”

In the middle of this lie, I wonder who I’ve become. Am I a tool for my own motivations? How far will I go? How many stories will I make up? Doesn’t my own mother matter to me?

She did once, but she’s been dead for a long time. I’m alive, and I’ve become a walking, breathing, thinking tool for other people’s plans.

“What’s in it for you?” Dr. Palmeri asks.

I have my own needs, and they have to look like they’re part of someone else’s.

“Your daughter was taken from you. So, I understand you. I truly understand how much this hurts you.” I stop myself from laying it on even thicker.

“I believe you, but…” He hmms and shakes his head. “I’m not sure.”

I can read him like a book. He believes I have altruistic motives. He believes I intend to go into the cell and find out about Rosemarie.

It’s my competence he doubts. That’s his mistake.

“I know him. I can break him down.”

“How can you do what no one else has been able to?”

“If he uses my body the way I know he will…” My cheeks tingle and I hate it. “There’s going to be a moment… afterward.” I clear my throat. “At that point, he won’t have any anger left. He can be quite reasonable.”

“This doesn’t sound like a guarantee.”

“I can’t give you that. All I can give you is hope.”

“I haven’t had a lot of that since she was taken.” He nods, then looks out the window. “I never stopped missing her. She was the brightest star in the sky, my little girl.”

“Then why’d you give her away so young?” The question is impulsive. Not strategic. Dario would not approve. But I may never get another chance to ask.