Chapter 3
“Coffee?”
“Please.”
“Niko makes terrible coffee.”
“I heard that,” a voice said behind us.
He entered wearing dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms.
Sofia did not turn around.
“Then improve.”
Niko glanced at me.
“Did you sleep?”
“Eventually.”
“You?”
“Eventually.”
Sofia looked between us.
“Oh, excellent. You already sound married.”
“We sound sleep-deprived,” I said.
“Same thing after year ten, according to my aunt.”
Niko ignored her.
“I have to leave for several hours.”
I stiffened.
He noticed.
“Business,” he clarified.
“I didn’t ask.”
“No, but you were about to.”
“I was not.”
Sofia handed me coffee.
“He’s always like this.”
Niko gave her a flat look.
She smiled sweetly.
Then his attention returned to me.
“Your father called.”
My hand stopped halfway to the cup.
“When?”
“Seven.”
“What did he want?”
“To speak to you.”
“And?”
“I told him you were sleeping.”
I stared.
“You told Arthur Shaw he couldn’t speak to his daughter?”
“You are not twelve.”
Something warm and complicated pressed against my ribs.
“Thank you,” I said.
Niko nodded.
“There’s also something else.”
He placed an envelope on the counter.
My name was written across the front in my father’s handwriting.
“I didn’t open it,” Niko said.
“Do you want a medal?”
“No. But perhaps reduce the suspicion by ten percent before breakfast.”
Sofia covered a smile with her cup.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Amelia,
I know you believe I traded your future for mine. If that were true, I would deserve your hatred.
There are things I should have told you years ago, and things I still cannot explain over the telephone.
Please meet me Tuesday at the old house.
Come alone if you can.
But if you no longer trust me enough to do that, bring Niko.
Love,
Dad
I read it three times.
“The old house?” Niko asked.
I folded the letter.
“The house in Westchester where I grew up.”
“You haven’t been there recently?”
“Not since college.”
Sofia poured more coffee.
“Why does he want you there?”
“I don’t know.”
Niko was watching me closely.
“What?”
“You’re pale.”
“I’m always pale before ten.”
He did not smile.
“You don’t have to go.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because whatever he did, he’s still my father.”
The answer came automatically.
Only afterward did I realize how much it hurt.
Niko glanced toward the folded letter.
“Then I’ll take you.”
“He asked me to come alone.”
“He also gave you another option.”
“I can drive myself.”
“You can.”
His agreement irritated me more than refusal would have.
“But?” I asked.
“But nothing.”
“You have a but face.”
Sofia nodded solemnly. “He does.”
Niko looked offended by both of us.
“Fine. If you want me there, say so. If you don’t, I won’t come.”
It was strangely difficult to respond to a man who kept giving me choices when I had prepared myself to fight for them.
“I’ll decide Tuesday.”
“Fair.”
He picked up his jacket.
At the doorway he stopped.
“There’s a driver available if you want to see Stella.”
“How do you know about Stella?”
“She was your maid of honor.”
“My only maid of honor.”
“Which made identification easier.”
“Oh.”
“And Amelia?”
“Yes?”
“The driver works for you while you’re using him. Not me. He won’t report where you go unless there is a security concern.”
He left.
Sofia watched the doorway for several seconds.
Then she looked at me.
“He likes you.”
I nearly spilled coffee.
“He has known me for less than twenty-four hours.”
“Yes.”
“He disliked me for most of those.”
“Yes.”
“And nothing happened last night.”
May you like
“I did not ask.”
“You implied.”
