Page 94 of Last Hand

Leone narrows his eyes. “But…?”

Milo sighs. “I’ll shut up now.”

“Good. And it’s the last I want to hear about it.”

I smile, resting my head against Milo’s shoulder.

Luca whines, mouth searching. Hungry.

Milo lifts him carefully and hands him over. I shift, settling him in my arms, guiding him to nurse.

And just like that, everything else fades away.

EPILOGUE

Leone

She’s already heading toward the basement stairs before I finish my coffee.

The baby’s in her arms, swaddled in that pale blue blanket with the little gold stars stitched into the edges. The one she told Maria she wanted to keep forever, even when he’s grown.

Milo and I exchange a look, and he mutters, “She’s not really going to…?”

But she is.

Of course she is.

We follow, wondering why she needs our son to take Igor his breakfast.

She doesn’t wait for either of us. Her pace is steady, not hurried. She walks like a queen descending to court, not a woman carrying an infant into the tomb of her torture chamber.

The basement smells the same. Always does, like mildew, rust, and rot.

Reaching the bottom, Fallon stands waiting for me to unlock the door. “No!” I tell her, reaching for my son, she turns, refusing to hand him over. She lifts her chin.

“Open it,” she demands. I glance at Milo behind her who is also watching worriedly.

“Merda,” I mutter, opening the door. She goes to walk in and I stop her, entering first to ensure he doesn't try anything.

Igor is already awake. He sits up and the chain rattles against the bolt as we approach, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t lunge.

He just stares at Fallon.

Dead-eyed. Defeated.

Igor doesn’t move.

Fallon walks in and stands a few feet from him, and I position myself between them both in case. Fallon, unperturbed, continues rocking Luca gently in her arms. “Say hi,” she tells the baby, her voice calm and singsong.

Igor’s lips part, no words come out. His eyes land on the child. Then flick up to Fallon’s face. He doesn’t curse. Doesn’t growl. Just stares.

He looks… small.

Milo shifts beside me, uneasy. “What the hell is she doing?” he whispers.

“I think,” I say, “she’s about to bury the past.”

Fallon calls out softly, “Maria?”

---