Chapter 2 - The Mother’s Rosary
The silence in the dining room was absolute, heavy enough to crush the breath out of my lungs.
Nico stared at my hands as they rested on the table, the ASL translation still hanging in the air. Ask my grandson why she told me he watched that video and laughed.
He turned his head slowly, his dark eyes locking onto Vanessa. The polite, wealthy guests seated around the engagement table suddenly found the floral centerpieces fascinating. Nobody moved. Nobody reached for a wine glass.
“I told you he was confused,” Vanessa said, her voice tight but remarkably steady. She smoothed the skirt of her designer dress. “He’s old, Nico. And he’s grieving. He must have misunderstood my gestures.”
Antonio slammed his palm flat against the mahogany table.
The loud smack made three guests jump.
He didn't need to hear the sound to know its impact. He pointed a rigid finger at Vanessa, his face pale with fury.
She did not use gestures. She typed it.
I translated instantly. “He says you didn’t gesture. He says you typed it on your phone and showed it to him.”
Nico stood up. His chair scraped harshly against the hardwood floor.
He walked around the table until he was standing directly behind Vanessa. He didn't touch her. The physical distance between them suddenly felt more dangerous than a loaded weapon.
“Where is your phone, Vanessa?” Nico asked, his voice dropping into the quiet, terrifying register that made his men downstairs tremble.
“Nico, please. You’re embarrassing us in front of the family.”
“Where is the phone?”
She reached into her small evening clutch, her manicured fingers trembling slightly for the first time. She pulled out a sleek silver phone and handed it to him.
Nico didn’t unlock it. He simply flipped it over and looked at the heavy, custom-made protective case. Then he looked at Antonio.
“Grandpa,” Nico said, waiting for me to translate. “Did she type it on this phone?”
Antonio shook his head.
No. It was a black phone. Older. With a cracked screen on the bottom corner.
I spoke the words aloud.
Vanessa’s face lost all its color. It happened so fast it was like watching the blood drain from a corpse.
“A burner phone,” Nico murmured, his eyes locking onto hers. “Why would my fiancée, who has a limitless platinum card and a brand new phone, carry a prepaid burner to my grandfather’s house?”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Vanessa said, pointing a sharp nail at me. “Your maid is lying. She’s trying to cause trouble.”
I didn’t defend myself. I just looked at Nico. Eighteen months I’d cleaned his house, served his meals, and kept my head down. He knew I had no reason to lie.
Nico reached out and grabbed Vanessa’s evening clutch from the table.
“Nico, stop! That’s mine!”
He upended the small bag over the table. A compact mirror, a lipstick, and a valet ticket spilled out. No burner phone.
But something else tumbled out, hitting the wood with a heavy, metallic clatter.
It was a rosary.
Not just any rosary. The beads were deep, blood-red garnet, strung together on tarnished silver wire. The crucifix was bent slightly at the bottom.
A collective gasp swept through the older women at the table.
Nico stopped breathing. He reached out with a shaking hand and picked it up, the red beads pooling in his broad palm.
“Where did you get this?” he whispered.
Vanessa swallowed hard, pressing herself back into her chair. “I found it in the guest room. I was going to have it cleaned for you.”
Nico looked at me. “Translate this exactly, Elise.”
I nodded, raising my hands for Antonio.
“My mother was holding this rosary when she died in her car,” Nico said, his voice breaking, yet filled with a terrifying rage. “The paramedics gave it to me at the hospital. I placed it inside her casket myself. Under her folded hands. Right before they closed the lid.”
I signed the words, my fingers feeling stiff and cold.
Antonio closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his weathered cheek.
Nico stepped closer to Vanessa, leaning down until they were eye-to-eye.
“So I’m going to ask you one more time,” Nico said softly. “How did you get a rosary that was buried six feet under the ground with my mother?”
Vanessa opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the heavy dining room doors swung open.
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Carlo, Nico’s second-in-command, stepped into the room. His face was bruised, his suit jacket torn, and in his right hand, he held a black, cracked burner phone.
“I found it in her car, Boss,” Carlo panted, throwing the phone onto the table. “Just like you asked me to look.”
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