Carlo caught his wife’s arm.
“What is this?” he demanded. “What did she play?”
Elena turned toward him. His bow tie sat crooked against his collar because he had refused help tying it. He had always preferred doing things badly himself to having them done correctly by someone else.
The fear on his face almost undid her.
Matteo noticed.
He had always noticed where fear entered a room.
“This is a misunderstanding involving the business,” he told Carlo. “Nothing more.”
Carlo looked at him, then at Elena. “What business?”
“The business you told me not to ask about,” Elena said.
Her father’s mouth opened.
No answer came.
That silence did what the recording had not. It gave the room a shape. It placed Matteo, Livia, Carlo, and Elena inside the same hidden thing.
Livia moved into the aisle.
“Turn off the system,” she told the sound technician.
“It is off, Signora Bellandi,” he replied from the booth. His voice carried because the hall was so quiet. “The file has finished.”
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