Chapter 4
Luciano did not confront Celina.
His attorney, Rachel Sloan, advised him not to.
“Right now you have troubling behavior,” she said. “You do not yet know the purpose.”
“She wanted my daughter out of the house.”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
Rachel looked at him.
“You’re used to knowing what people want because they usually tell you after you frighten them.”
Luciano said nothing.
She continued.
“This is different. We document first.”
Luciano hated that approach.
Which was one reason Rachel remained his attorney.
They reviewed the canceled wedding contracts, household records, school communications, and every email Celina had sent regarding Ellie.
A pattern emerged.
Celina had been increasingly involved in Ellie’s routine for nearly four months.
At first, nothing looked wrong.
She attended school events.
Bought clothes.
Scheduled a dental appointment.
Interviewed a new swimming instructor.
Then, gradually, she began replacing people.
Ellie’s weekend babysitter was dismissed.
A young nanny who worked two afternoons a week was told the family no longer needed her.
Maria’s schedule was reduced from six days to four.
Luciano had approved each change.
Celina always had a reasonable explanation.
Budget.
Scheduling.
Privacy.
Preparing for married life.
Luciano had signed off without noticing that every change reduced the number of adults who saw Ellie when he was away.
That realization made him physically ill.
Rachel asked:
“When was the first behavioral complaint?”
Luciano checked.
Eleven days after Maria’s schedule was reduced.
“And the second?”
Three days after the weekend babysitter stopped coming.
Rachel said nothing.
She did not need to.
Luciano drove home in silence.
That evening he found Ellie on the floor of the library rebuilding her family project with Marianne.
The crushed photographs had been replaced.
The cardboard house was still bent.
Ellie looked up.
“Daddy, I need Celina picture?”
Luciano sat beside her.
“Do you want one?”
Ellie shook her head.
“Teacher says family is people safe.”
Luciano looked at Marianne.
She had not told Ellie to say that.
He could see it in her face.
“Who told you that?”
“Miss Amy.”
Her preschool teacher.
Ellie carefully glued a picture of Maria near the edge of the cardboard.
Luciano stared at it.
For months, Celina had complained that Ellie was excluding her.
May you like
Luciano had assumed that was ordinary jealousy between a fiancée and the memory of a dead mother.
Now he wondered whether Ellie had been communicating something everyone else kept calling childish preference.
