Page 19 of Broken Honor

“Please, Lord,” I whisper, “keep the darkness far from us. Wrap us in Your light.”

When the last Amen is spoken, the warmth in the room feels thicker—woven from something more than just tea and candlelight. Something sacred.

Nonna brushes her fingers over my curls before kissing my forehead.

“Go to bed, my love,” she murmurs. “Let your soul rest now.”

Bea stands and gently takes her arm. “I’ll stay with her tonight, Nonna. You should sleep.”

Nonna hesitates, but then sighs and nods, her eyes soft with gratitude. “Bless you, figlia. You’ve always been her guardian angel.”

She kisses me one more time, fingers trembling against my cheek, then she walks to her room down the hall but not without glancing back at me to make sure I'm still here.

Bea helps me to my bed and tucks the blanket up to my chin, brushing my curls off my face with slow, careful fingers.

I glance at her, my throat tight. “Bea?”

She looks at me, eyes soft. “Mm?”

“I’m scared.”

She slips under the blanket beside me and pulls me close, one arm curling protectively around my shoulder.

“Don’t be,” she whispers. “I’ll protect you.”

Her voice is warm and certain, like sunlight through stained glass. Her arms feel safe, her presence a shield. I nestle closer, pressing my cheek against her shoulder.

Her breathing slows, and so does mine.

Eventually, my eyes drift closed.

And the room fades.

I’m back in the café.

But it’s different this time.

The walls seem taller. The shadows stretch longer. The tablecloths ripple even though no wind moves them. The bell above the door keeps chiming, again and again, though no one enters.

Then I see him.

The man.

He’s on the floor again, curled where he fell, his blood staining the wood a deeper red than I remember. I stumble backward.

“Bea!” I call out, voice cracking. “Bea, please—he’s here again—he’s still here—”

But it isn’t Bea who comes.

It’s Sheriff Caladori.

He walks in slowly, eyes sharp, expression strange. He’s not holding his usual notepad. He’s holding my rosary.

“You lied,” he says calmly. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I didn’t— I swear, I didn’t know anything—”

“Where are the diamonds?”

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