The young mother looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her clothes wrinkled from a sleepless night spent under the watchful eyes of my armed guards.
I immediately stood up from behind my desk.
I walked around the mahogany furniture, lowered myself to one knee, and brought myself down to Mia’s eye level.
“Good morning, little captain,” I said, offering her a small, faint smile.
Mia didn’t smile back, but her tiny fingers reached out and gently touched the gold signet ring on my right hand—the ring of the Duca patriarch.
“Mia,” I asked gently, “has anyone else in this house besides Vivien threatened you or your mommy?
¿Alguien te ha dado cosas que esconder?”
Mia miró a su madre, quien le dio un asentimiento tranquilizador entre sus lágrimas.
La niña se metió en el bolsillo profundo de su pequeña falda roja.
Sus diminutos dedos tiraban un poco por un momento antes de sacar un pedazo de papel que había sido doblado en un pequeño cuadrado apretado, deshilachado en los bordes como si hubiera sido llevado durante semanas.
“Vivien dropped it,” Mia whispered, her voice barely louder than the patter of rain against the windowpane.
