Long ago, my father and I had made a pact: whenever the colored flares went up, it meant I was in danger, and someone would come to take me away.
At some point, Cesare appeared. He sat at the edge of my bed for a long time.
When he saw me open my eyes, he touched my forehead. "The fever's broken. Come on, sit up and have some porridge."
I struggled upright. "Sienna came. She forced an entire bowl of that sterilizing concoction down my throat. Did you know?"
Cesare's expression faltered for a moment. He lowered his gaze. "I knew."
"You knew?"
I clenched every muscle in my body to keep the tears from falling.
He reached for my hand. I pulled away.
"Serafina, she was only protecting herself. If you'd given birth, where would that leave her and her child? It's only human nature."
I let out a hollow laugh. Human nature. What a convenient excuse.
Cesare set the bowl down and continued. "After Sienna went home, she had terrible stomach pains. It's possible our child's spirit unsettled her..."
He looked at me, hesitating, then pressed on.