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Chapter Fifty-Seven

We're out of the house at eight AM sharp.

Once we're in the car—a brand new Lexus, not the car we drove in yesterday—he says, "I have to meet some guys today. We'll be discussing the grand day." He likes to call it that. I hope he's right. I hope it'll be the day all of our suffering ends.

I ask, "Won't Aurelio be there?"

"No, he's busy with something else."

He stops by a nearby bar and buys coffee and pastries for breakfast. It's all so delicious that I moan as I take a bite. I thought I wouldn't have an appetite after yesterday. I was dead wrong.

The drive isn't long. I still have my cup of coffee when we park in front of a hotel. "You're meeting in a public place?"

He says, "It isn't a problem. Giotto doesn't have eyes everywhere."

The interior looks like every other hotel I've ever been to. Dark wooden reception, red carpeted floor, a small lobby. Enzo turns to me and says, "Wait here. I'll give the guys a call."

I nod and he walks away.

The lobby is practically empty, so I
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