Chapter 2 - The Question Maya Asked
Elena wanted to take Maya upstairs.
Maya refused.
She stood in the center of Luca’s study with the baseball glove hanging from one hand and stared at both adults.
“Why is my name on the paper?”
Elena looked at Luca.
He did not speak.
This was hers to begin.
Elena crouched in front of her daughter.
“Remember what I told you about your father?”
Maya nodded slowly.
“You said he didn’t know about me.”
“That was true.”
“Is he dead?”
“No.”
Maya looked confused.
“Then where is he?”
Elena’s voice almost broke.
“He was closer than I knew.”
Maya looked at Luca.
Luca felt something in his chest tighten.
Children did not need legal explanations.
They did not need timelines.
They understood faces.
Maya looked at his face for perhaps three seconds.
Then she whispered.
“No way.”
Elena reached for her.
Maya stepped backward.
“Is he?”
Elena nodded.
Maya stared at Luca.
Luca had negotiated with men carrying guns.
He had buried friends.
He had given orders affecting thousands of employees without blinking.
He had never been more afraid of a question.
“Are you my dad?”
“Yes.”
Maya said nothing.
Luca forced himself not to fill the silence.
Finally she asked.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
She looked at Elena.
“Mom?”
“He didn’t know.”
Maya turned toward the window.
The baseball diamond stretched beyond the garden.
For weeks she had danced there.
Thrown balls there.
Sat beside Luca there.
She had somehow found her father before either of them understood what she had done.
“That’s weird,” she said.
Luca almost smiled.
“Yes.”
“Really weird.”
“Yes.”
Maya looked at his wheelchair.
Then at his face.
“Does that mean I have to call you Dad now?”
“No.”
She appeared relieved.
“What do I call you?”
“Luca works.”
She considered it.
“Okay.”
Then she walked toward him.
Luca did not know what she intended until Maya placed the baseball glove in his lap.
“You can hold this.”
“For what?”
“Because Tommy said we should practice catching.”
She turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“And because you look sad again.”
When she was gone, Elena wiped one tear from her cheek.
Luca stared at the glove.
“She handled that better than I did.”
“She is eleven.”
Luca looked up sharply.
The original estimate he had made the first afternoon had been wrong.
Eight or nine, he had thought.
He had not realized how small hardship could make a child look.
Elena gave him a tired smile.
“She’ll be twelve in January.”
Another year he had almost missed.
Before Luca could answer, his phone vibrated.
The message came from his private investigator.
WE FOUND THE ORIGINAL HOSPITAL FILE.
A second message appeared.
SOMEONE ALTERED IT THREE DAYS AFTER YOUR COLLAPSE.
Then a photograph loaded.
May you like
At the bottom of the medical amendment was a familiar signature.
Dominic Costello.
