Paolo and Antonia name their new baby Enzo, after Paolo’s brother who died in the war. Antonia weeps for the whole first week after he is born: poring over his dark brown eyes, his long thin fingers, which are like Robbie’s, like Paolo’s. She weeps in gratitude that her body has stayed whole, the jagged scar from Robbie’s birth still intact, the inside of her body in and the baby out, the miracle of that exchange. She weeps as they leave the hospital, as they settle in at home. She weeps and she knows Paolo doesn’t understand, knows she is pushing him away, knows he is scared, but she does not yet have the energy to call him back to her. She weeps, and she comes back to herself. She weeps in relief, because it is exhausting to be terrified for nine months, because it is exhausting to spend your life scared, your whole life since the morning your papa disappeared, really, but now you are an adult with two children, two perfectly formed human people that you made, and you know, the way some knowledge is given from above or outside, somewhere external and eternal, you know that it is time.

Take the gun.

Walk into the water.

—

Almost two weeks pass. Saul and Sofia and Julia spend every moment at Antonia and Paolo’s apartment. They rock Enzo and teach Robbie how to hold his brother. Julia watches from a darkened corner, fascinated but uncharacteristically cautious, almost fearful. The seven of them are as happy as they’ve ever been.

On Friday, Saul leaves in the early afternoon for his Fianzo meeting.

He escapes each of these meetings as quickly as he can, but they stain the first Friday of each month like grease, like wine, like blood. The sweetness of his new nephew fills him with loathing toward Tommy Fianzo Jr., who never misses a chance to belittle Saul, to make Saul feel small in the hopes of making himself feel more important. Saul could use his growing family as motivation to be more patient with Tommy Jr. But he doesn’t. Today, instead, he gets careless.

As Saul shoves the front door open like a battering ram, a slip of paper dislodges itself from his pocket. It falls like an autumn leaf down toward the ground. As Saul stalks off toward his waiting ride, the slip of paper lands on the burning asphalt. Saul doesn’t notice as he walks away. His pocket does not feel empty on the drive home.

2 guards today, the paper says. Summer busy for F’s. Shipping season? Winter is quieter.

Tommy Fianzo Jr.’s doorman reaches down and picks up the sheet of paper. He mouths the words on it as he deciphers Saul’s handwriting.

“Get the boss down here,” he says once he reads it.

—