Chapter 8
Sophie noticed.
Her smile faded.
“Do you not like presents anymore?”
Dante knelt in front of her.
“No, sweetheart. I like presents.”
“Then why are you making that face?”
He looked at the ribbon.
For a moment, he was back in the ballroom.
The music stopping.
The gunshot.
The terrifying knowledge that a man he loved had wanted him dead.
Then he looked at Sophie.
And the memory changed.
He remembered a little girl who had been frightened and spoken anyway.
A child who had decided that someone's life mattered more than her own fear.
Dante smiled gently.
“I was just remembering something.”
Sophie nodded.
“Your bad birthday?”
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“This is a good birthday.”
“I believe you.”
She handed him the box.
He accepted it.
“Can I open it?”
Sophie beamed.
“Of course, silly!”
Dante pulled the ribbon loose.
Inside was a cheap silver keychain.
Attached to it was a small wooden heart painted yellow.
On one side were the words:
BEST FRIEND DANTE.
On the other:
THANK YOU FOR KEEPING MOMMY SAFE.
Dante stared at it.
His vision blurred.
Sophie leaned toward him.
“Do you like it?”
He swallowed.
“I love it.”
“You're crying.”
“A little.”
“Grown-ups cry a lot.”
Clara laughed softly.
Dante pulled Sophie into a hug.
And for the first time in his adult life, he didn't care who saw him cry.
After a moment, Sophie whispered into his shoulder.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Always.”
“I wasn't sure you'd listen to me that night.”
Dante's heart squeezed.
“Why not?”
“Because grown-ups don't always listen to little kids.”
He closed his eyes.
Sophie continued.
“But Mommy says when you know something is wrong, you should tell the truth. Even if your voice shakes.”
Dante held her a little tighter.
“Your mommy was right.”
Then he stood and looked at Clara.
She had tears in her eyes.
He reached into his pocket and took out the keychain he had carried every day since Sophie gave it to him at the community center's opening: a little yellow plastic star.
He placed the new wooden heart beside it.
Clara smiled.
“You're collecting quite a few of those.”
Dante looked at the two small gifts in his hand.
“Funny thing,” he said quietly.
“For most of my life, people gave me expensive things because they were afraid of me.”
He looked at Sophie.
“And the two most valuable gifts I've ever received came from a little girl who wasn't afraid to tell me the truth.”