That night they made spaghetti together. Nicholas dropped a spoon. The metal clattered against the tiles, and he immediately ducked beneath the table.
Salvatore froze. Then he sat on the floor a little distance away. “That’s a loud spoon.”
Nicholas stared at him.
“We can clean it when you’re ready.”
“No punishment?”
“No punishment.”
Nicholas crept toward him. “Vanessa says brave boys never drop things.”
“Brave boys drop things all the time. Brave dads too.”
Salvatore deliberately picked up the spoon and washed it. He had won corporate wars with a phone call. Showing a frightened child that a dropped spoon was just a dropped spoon took more of his patience than any negotiation.
After dinner Rosa arrived with a little red wooden train. Elena had given it to Nicholas on his second birthday. Vanessa had hidden it in a locked cabinet; one of the former housekeepers recovered it during the authorized inventory.
Nicholas held it to his chest. “Mommy knew I liked trains.”
“She did,” Salvatore said. “Tell me what else you remember about her.”
The boy smiled faintly. “She sang badly.”
Rosa laughed through tears. “Very badly.”
For an hour, they remembered Elena without treating her name like a dangerous secret. Later Nicholas fell asleep clutching the train. Salvatore sat nearby reading the first independent audit summary. Across the bottom of one page was a company name that made him stop breathing: *Asterfield Advisory LLC.* Its registered representative was Julian Mercer.
