Chapter 6

"You were standing right next to Gemma. Why didn't you shield her yourself? When it comes down to it, you're the one who failed to look after her, and you've still got the nerve to blame other people?"

I couldn't spare him a single second. All I wanted was that form in Rosalind's hand, the slip that decided whose blood the hospital would hold.

Seeing me move, Lorenzo threw himself in front of Rosalind and Chiara and shoved me hard from behind. "Still making a scene? Settle down. What's gotten into you?"

My whole back slammed against the cold wall, and I crashed to the floor. Somewhere down the corridor, a soldier in a dark coat looked away, the way men in the life learn to look away from things that aren't their business.

By the time I recovered enough to stand, Lorenzo had already gone, one arm curved around Rosalind and Chiara as if they were the only blood he owned.

A little way off, the nurses stood watching, muttering under their breath. "That little girl he carried off wasn't hurt at all. Her scan just came back, only a few scrapes. What does she need blood for?"

"It's just awful. I heard the one in the operating room is his own daughter..."

The door of the emergency room swung open, and a nurse leaned out. "Is the blood here yet? The child's pressure is dropping."

Another nurse hurried over. "They've already arranged to pull it from a hospital across the territory..."

"Hurry. The child can't wait."

"Okay, okay, I'll push them again."

"..."

I stood frozen in place. I had never felt so helpless in my life. A man's rank could reach into an operating room and take the blood meant for his own child, and there was nothing in this world, no law, no oath, that would give it back.

Every minute, every second, the waiting was agony.

At last the blood arrived.

It was dark outside by the time Gemma came out of the anesthesia.

She opened her eyes and turned her little head with effort. Her fingers moved first, searching along the sheet until they closed around the small strawberry hairclip, gripping it tight. "Mommy... where's Daddy? Is Daddy okay? The horse didn't fall on him, did it..."

My tears spilled over all at once, dropping onto her little face.

I wiped them away quickly and forced a smile. "He's fine."

Gemma let out a relieved breath, then asked softly, "Then why didn't Daddy come stay with me?"

"Did he go be with Chiara again?"

I stroked her little hand, the one with the IV taped across it, and I didn't know what to say.

The day she was discharged, the sky was clear and bright.

With one arm I held Gemma and with the other I dragged the suitcase, and right at the hospital gate I flagged a cab and gave the driver the airfield. Old Volpe had pressed his signet ring flat to the table when he made the arrangement, the way he did when a promise carried a debt behind it. It was the only way out of the life that would let us live.

There was still gauze on Gemma's forehead as she leaned against my shoulder and asked, "Mommy, what are we going to the airfield for?"

I lowered my head and kissed her hair. "Mommy's taking you somewhere very far away. There are snowy mountains there, and wide-open grasslands. Do you want to go see them?"

Gemma thought it over and nodded, then suddenly asked in a small voice, "Then is Daddy... coming with us?"

I tightened my arm around her. On the table between us my hand went flat and still, my wedding band cold and untouched beneath my palm.

"No. From now on it's just the two of us. No Daddy..."