Chapter 6: Everything That Was Still Broken
Rachel took Emma home.
Not to the apartment on Delancey — that address was no longer safe and they both understood this without discussing it.
Marco had arranged a place in Brooklyn Heights, a quiet building with good sight lines and two of Luca's most trusted men already positioned outside.
Rachel had packed a bag before she left for Maspeth.
She had packed it in under eight minutes, which told Luca she had been mentally packing it for longer than tonight.
He watched the car carrying them pull away from the curb.
Then he sat down on the front step of the building because his legs had decided they were done.
Marco appeared beside him.
He looked down at Luca on the step and said nothing for a moment.
"Your heart rate," he said finally.
"I know."
"Dr.
Bennett is going to be furious."
"She's going to be professional and controlled and then furious."
"You need to go back."
"I know." Luca looked at the empty street.
"Give me a minute."
Marco sat down beside him.
Which was notable, because Marco did not generally sit on steps.
They stayed like that for a while.
"She held the bear the whole time," Marco said.
"I know."
"And she gave it to you."
Luca looked at his right hand.
He was still holding Mr.
Buttons.
He hadn't noticed.
He looked at it for a moment.
Then carefully set it on the step beside him.
"Sokolov will move on this," Marco said.
"The federal contact you used — that's a card you can only play once."
"I know."
"And Volkov.
Once Sokolov confirms that information—"
"He'll know I've had eyes inside his operation for over a year." Luca nodded.
"Which means he'll spend the next several months wondering what else I know."
"That buys us time."
"Some."
"Not forever."
"No." Luca looked at the street again.
"Nothing is forever."
Marco was quiet for a moment.
Then: "What are you going to do?"
It was a larger question than it sounded.
Luca understood that.
"I don't know yet," he said.
Which was honest.
Which was, as Marco had observed the night before, becoming a habit.
Marco picked up Mr.
Buttons from the step.
Turned it over in his hands.
Set it back down.
"She's going to need more than a bear," he said.
"I know."
"And Rachel—"
"I know, Marco."
"You walked out on her once."
"I know."
"She let you hold Emma tonight.
That doesn't mean—"
"I know." Luca looked at him.
"I know what it means and what it doesn't mean.
I'm not going to pretend tonight fixed three years."
Marco nodded slowly.
"Good."
"It doesn't fix anything." Luca's jaw tightened.
"It just means I stopped making it worse."
They sat in silence for another minute.
Then Luca's phone buzzed.
A message from Ferretti, his attorney.
Four words: *Federal contact confirmed receipt.*
He showed it to Marco.
Marco read it.
His expression shifted into something that was almost relief.
"So Sokolov knows the file exists."
"And that it's already been transmitted." Luca pocketed the phone.
"Which means moving against me now costs him more than it gains him."
"For now."
"For now," Luca agreed.
Marco stood.
Extended a hand.
Luca took it and got to his feet, which involved a level of effort he was not going to describe to anyone.
"Hospital," Marco said.
"Hospital," Luca agreed.
He picked up Mr.
Buttons from the step.
Marco looked at it.
"She'll want that back," Luca said.
"I know."
"So I'm keeping it safe."
"Of course you are," Marco said.
And for once, he didn't smile.
They walked to the car.
Halfway there, Luca's phone rang.
Not Marco.
Not Ferretti.
Rachel.
He stopped walking.
Answered.
"She's asleep," Rachel said.
Her voice was quiet.
Careful.
The way it got when she was managing something difficult.
"She asked me to tell you that Mr.
Buttons needs to come back tomorrow."
"I'll bring him."
A pause.
"Luca."
"Yes."
"I'm not—" She stopped.
Started again.
"Tonight was tonight.
I'm not saying anything beyond that right now."
"I know."
"I need time."
"You can have it."
Another pause.
Longer.
"She drew you a picture," Rachel said.
"Before all of this.
Last week.
I didn't tell you because I didn't know how to." A breath.
"She drew the family picture again.
The three of us."
He waited.
"She gave you a face this time," Rachel said.
He stood on the sidewalk in Brooklyn at two-thirty in the morning with a stuffed bear in his hand and said nothing for a long moment.
"Rachel—"
"Don't." Her voice was not unkind.
"Not tonight.
Just—come tomorrow.
Bring the bear.
We'll see."
She ended the call.
He stood there.
Marco, three feet away, had heard enough to understand the shape of it.
He said nothing.
Just opened the car door and waited.
Luca got in.
The drive back to the hospital was quiet.
The city moved past the windows.
The bridges.
The lights.
The millions of ordinary people in their ordinary lives.
Somewhere in Brooklyn Heights, a three-year-old girl was asleep with the absolute confidence of someone who had been told she was safe and had believed it completely.
Luca looked out the window and thought about what it meant to be the kind of man a child could believe in.
May you like
He didn't have an answer yet.
But for the first time in three years, he thought he might be willing to become one.
