Rafe smiled.
“Emilio, this is just precautionary.”
Emilio reached for the folder.
But instead of signing, he slowly lifted his eyes toward his brother.
“Etta,” he said quietly.
“Lock the door.”
I froze.
Rafe’s smile disappeared.
One of the attorneys looked toward the hallway.
Emilio pointed toward the door.
“Now.”
I locked it.
Rafe’s voice became cold.
“What are you doing?”
Emilio opened the folder.
Then he looked at me.
“Etta, you said something to me three nights ago.”
“What?”
“You said anything that has to smell that strong is covering something.”
He turned toward Rafe.
“So tell me, brother.”
His voice was weak.
But his eyes weren’t.
“What are you covering?”
Rafe didn’t answer.
And that was when I realized the sickness wasn’t the only thing threatening Emilio Corsaro.
Someone inside his own house was trying to make sure he never recovered.
PART 2 — THE ROOM NO ONE CLEANED
Rafe laughed.
It wasn’t a nervous laugh.
It was the kind of laugh people used when they believed they had already won.
“You’ve been sick for months,” he said. “You’re imagining enemies everywhere.”
Emilio slowly closed the folder.
“Then why did you bring lawyers?”
“Because someone has to protect the family.”
