After she’d closed her bag, Cassie looked back through the list of accommodations that she’d made when tracking Jacqui down. She guessed when she was evicted from the Rossi home tomorrow, she would head there and try, once again, to find out if her sister was dead or alive. Now that she was looking for herself, rather than simply making a list of lodgings, she realized how expensive everywhere was in this scenic lakeside town.
The backpacker lodge where Jacqui had stayed was the first place she called, but they were fully booked. She tried other cheaper places—even though “cheaper” in Bellagio was still far beyond her budget, with the same results. Affordable accommodations in this town seemed to be nonexistent.
With a sigh, Cassie expanded her search to include other towns within a short drive, which were not as scenic or well located. She was still busy making her list when she realized that it was almost six o’clock and supper time.
Cassie was strongly tempted to skip supper. After all, Ms. Rossi had spoken to the girls, and not to her, when she’d said where they would dine. Then she realized that if she wasn’t there, Ms. Rossi would probably seize the opportunity to punish one of her children for some nonexistent infraction and they’d spend dinner time in pain or hunger. For tonight at least, she could be there to stop it happening.
Dreading what the next hour would bring, she left her room and headed to the upstairs lounge.
The dining room table had been laid with five places. Ms. Rossi was busy seating her mother, and Nina and Venetia were already in their chairs.
“There we go, Mama. Are you comfortable? Can I pour you water or perhaps a little wine?”
Ms. Rossi had already been drinking. There was an open bottle of red wine on the table. She didn’t offer Cassie any, but refilled her own glass and poured half a glass for her mother.
“Nina, you may serve us,” she told her daughter.
With her face pinched by tension, Nina stood up and removed the heavy glass lid from the pot of minestrone on the side table.
She ladled the vegetable soup into five bowls and then, with the utmost concentration, carried each bowl to the table. Clearly, spilling as much as a drop would cause the worst possible consequences.
Even though Nina’s hands were shaking with nervousness, she set Cassie’s bowl down in front of her with such care that Cassie barely heard it touch the table.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She badly wanted to squeeze the young girl’s hand and tell her well done, but knew this would be out of line.
Once she was satisfied that her daughter had not spilled any soup, Ms. Rossi sliced a loaf of ciabatta bread and passed it around.
Cassie had never felt less hungry in her life, but she forced the tasty soup down and buttered her bread obediently.
Dinner was a silent affair. The grandmother appeared preoccupied with the simple task of managing her food. She seemed capable of eating, but only just. She had to hold her spoon with both hands to complete its trembling journey to her mouth. Cassie watched each spoonful nervously, worried that if some were to spill, Ms. Rossi would find a way to blame her children for it.
Nina and Venetia ate in silence, and from the way their eyes watched their grandmother’s spoon, she was sure they shared her fear. Any spillages would be punished, and they would bear the brunt.
Ms. Rossi finished her wine, but her mother sipped sparingly at her glass, drinking only a little.
“Cook has made tiramisu for your dessert, Mama,” Ms. Rossi said. “You and I will share it in your room with coffee.”
Clearly the children were not included in the offer of dessert, but Cassie thought they didn’t mind, and looked relieved when their mother said, “Nina and Venetia, you may be excused.”
Cassie guessed that included her. She realized Ms. Rossi hadn’t spoken a single word to her the whole way through dinner. Ignoring her so deliberately was a way to insult and belittle her in front of the family, she guessed. It was as if, in her eyes, Cassie was already gone.
She stood up and followed the children out, blinking tears away all over again as she thought that this was how every single dinner would be from here on—if they went well. If they went badly, Cassie couldn’t bear to think what would happen.
Back in her room, she grabbed a Kleenex, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose, only to start crying again. She felt gutted by the knowledge that she had failed, and would be deserting them.
A soft noise roused her from her grief. Had that been an almost soundless tap on the door?
Cassie wiped her eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and did her best to pull herself together before answering.
“Come in,” she said in a low voice, guessing it was the cook or a maid, arriving to remove her uneaten lunch.
The door opened and Venetia entered. She looked pale-faced and stricken. Immediately, she turned and closed the door behind her.
“Please, don’t go,” she whispered. She ran to Cassie and hugged her tight, and feeling her small arms wrap around her, Cassie felt her tears return in full force.
For a while all Cassie could hear were muffled sniffs and gasps as the two of them fought to regain control without making a noise.
“I don’t want to go,” she whispered to Venetia. “I don’t want to leave you. I know you need me but it’s impossible now that your mama has fired me. I’m trying to think of what to do, and how I can help you.”
“I’m so scared,”
