Chapter 15
She carried a small medical backpack containing the monitor for her insulin pump, and she held the 1-eared rabbit as though it were a lifeline. The first day Tessa brought her through the mudroom, the tension among the staff had been unmistakable. The armed men in the hallways did not know where to look. They had been trained to identify threats, wiretaps, and assassins. Nobody had trained them to deal with a frightened first grader wearing a faded pink coat. Zo established the protocol himself. He met Tessa and Mia in the entryway. He did not smile. He was no longer certain how to produce a friendly one. Instead, he lowered himself to Mia’s eye level. “This is my house,” he told her. His voice was gravelly but quiet. “You can go into the kitchen. You can go into the library. You do not go into the basement.” Mia watched him with wide eyes. “And you do not go outside without Gabe. Understand?” She nodded.
After a week, a strange domestic rhythm had developed on the third floor. Tessa cleaned with a new, quiet efficiency. The exhaustion beneath her eyes was slowly fading, replaced by a cautious, fragile peace. Her shoes no longer squeaked. She now wore supportive orthopedic shoes that Zo had ordered, though she had fought him bitterly before finally accepting them. Mia usually sat at the large oak table in the corner of Zo’s study. One Tuesday afternoon, rain tapped against the windows while Zo sat at his desk with a glass of scotch in 1 hand, reviewing a logistics report describing a major shipment of untraceable firearms moving through the port. At the oak table, Mia was doing math homework. The juxtaposition was absurd. Zo Rossi, ruthless head of a criminal family, planning a felony. 3 ft away, a 7-year-old chewed on a pencil and struggled with subtraction. “Mr. Rossi?” Zo paused. He lowered the shipping manifest. “Yes?” “What’s 17 minus 8?” Tessa, who was dusting a bookshelf across the room, froze. “Mia, honey, don’t bother Mr. Rossi while he’s working. I’ll help you in a minute.”
