Chapter 2 - The Duck Pond
The sky had cleared by mid-morning, leaving behind a crisp, golden autumn breeze that smelled of damp leaves and woodsmoke.
The public park in the town center was quiet on a Thursday morning. A large wooden pond sat at the center, surrounded by weeping willows whose branches dipped into the dark, still water. A flock of mallards drifted lazily near the edge, waiting for visitors.
The black town car pulled into the paved turnaround near the water. Two security SUVs had preceded us, discreetly positioning guards near the treeline and the park entrance. Marco sat in the front passenger seat of the town car, his eyes scanning the surrounding paths through dark sunglasses before he signaled for the rear door to be opened.
The driver deployed the hydraulic ramp, allowing Alessandro’s motorized wheelchair to glide smoothly down onto the brick walkway.
Lily stepped out right behind him, holding my hand tightly. She was wearing her secondhand pale blue dress, topped with a bright red knit sweater I had spent three weeks making for her birthday. Her small eyes were wide with wonder as she looked at the vast open green space, her little shoes clicking against the pavement.
Alessandro reached into the side bag attached to his wheelchair, pulling out a brown paper sack filled with cracked corn and old breadcrumbs.
"Here, little one," Alessandro said, his voice softer than I had ever heard it outdoors. He held the bag out toward her.
Lily didn't take the bag. Instead, she took a handful of breadcrumbs, turned around, and promptly climbed up onto the metal footrests of Alessandro’s wheelchair, balancing herself against his knees so she could get a higher view of the pond.
"Lily!" I gasped, taking a step forward. "Get down, you’re going to hurt his legs!"
"Leave her, Elena," Alessandro commanded gently, placing one large, calloused hand behind her back to ensure she didn't fall. "She isn't hurting anything."
Lily leaned over his lap, throwing a handful of crumbs into the water. A cluster of ducks immediately glided toward us, quacking loudly as they splashed in the ripples.
A sound broke from Alessandro’s throat—a deep, genuine laugh. It was a rusty, unused sound, but it carried across the quiet pond like music.
"Look, Mr. Alessandro!" Lily squealed, pointing a finger coated in bread dust. "That one has a green head! He’s the boss duck!"
"The boss duck?" Alessandro smiled, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "Why do you think he’s the boss?"
"Because he’s loud and he’s eating all the food first," she replied matter-of-factly, turning her head to look up at him. "Just like the big men in suits who come to your house."
I covered my mouth to muffle a nervous cough.
Alessandro laughed again, shaking his head. "She isn't wrong, Elena. Not at all."
Standing ten paces away near the town car, Marco watched the scene play out. His arms were crossed over his chest, his posture rigid. He wasn't watching the ducks, nor was he watching the treeline for threats. His eyes were locked on Alessandro and Lily, his jaw tightened so hard that a muscle twitched beneath his skin.
A quiet hum rang out from Marco’s suit jacket. He pulled out a encrypted satellite phone, stepping a few yards further down the path to take the call.
"Speak," Marco said in a low tone, his back turned to us.
I couldn't hear the voice on the other end, but I watched Marco’s profile. His brows furrowed into a deep, furious line.
"I told you not to contact me on this line during the day," Marco whispered harshly into the phone, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. "Everything is under control. The old man is merely having a sentimental episode with the servant’s brat... No, nothing has changed regarding the estate transfer. Keep the buyers patient."
He paused, listening for a few seconds, his eyes darting toward Alessandro, who was currently helping Lily toss a larger piece of crust into the center of the flock.
"He won't survive the winter anyway," Marco added, his voice dropping into a chilling, flat register. "The dosage is taking its toll. Just make sure the offshore accounts are ready by the end of the month."
Marco disconnected the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He smoothed the lapels of his jacket, took a deep breath, and turned back toward us, his face instantly relaxing into his familiar, warm, loyal smile.
"Everything alright, Marco?" Alessandro called out, turning his wheelchair slightly.
"Just checking in with the regional security detail, boss," Marco said smoothly, walking back over. "Everything is clear. Though I recommend we don't stay out too long. The temperature is dropping, and you know what the doctor said about your circulation."
Alessandro looked down at Lily, who was currently trying to wipe a speck of dirt off his leather armrest with her sleeve.
"Five more minutes," Alessandro said softly. "We have a storybook to buy next."
As we walked back toward the town car a short while later, Lily’s shoe caught on an uneven paving stone. She stumbled, her small hand slipping from mine. She dropped her favorite cloth rabbit—the worn, gray toy she had carried since she was a baby—and it tumbled off the walkway, landing in a damp pile of muddy leaves near the base of a stone bench.
"Oh, my bunny!" Lily cried, her eyes filling with tears.
Before I could reach down to pick it up, Marco stepped forward quickly. "Allow me, little girl."
Marco reached down and picked up the cloth rabbit by its ears. As he straightened up, he held the toy out toward Lily. But as he did, his cufflink caught on a loose thread near the rabbit’s small stuffed foot.
With a sharp zip, the old cotton seam pulled apart, exposing a small cluster of yellowing foam stuffing inside the leg.
Lily let out a horrified gasp. "Auntie Bunny is broken!"
"I am so sorry, sweetheart," Marco said, though his voice lacked any real emotion. He handed the toy to me. "It was an accident. Old toys fall apart."
"It’s okay, Lily," I said quickly, kneeling beside her and comforting her. "Mommy can sew it up as soon as we get home. I have thread in my laundry room."
Alessandro looked at the torn toy, then at Marco. A strange, sharp glint passed through Alessandro’s eyes—a fleeting moment of deep calculation that vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"We will stop at the craft store on the way back," Alessandro said firmly. "Elena will get whatever she needs to fix it."
"Of course," Marco murmured, bowing his head slightly.
As we drove back toward the estate, Lily sat between Alessandro and me, clutching the torn rabbit in her lap. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in deep shades of gold and violet.
Alessandro looked down at the child sleeping against his side, her small breathing rhythmic and peaceful. He reached out, gently stroking her hair.
"She trusts easily," Alessandro said softly, looking across at me.
May you like
"She hasn't had a reason not to," I replied quietly. "I've tried to protect her from the hard parts of the world."
"Keep doing that, Elena," Alessandro whispered, his tone suddenly solemn, almost grim. "Because the hard parts of the world are often standing right beside you, wearing expensive suits."
