Chapter 2: The Breakthrough
A soft chime sounded from the service elevator. The cleaning girl arrived with a bucket in one hand and a caddy of supplies in the other. She was twenty-three, dressed in a plain gray uniform, her hair twisted into a loose, messy bun. Cheap shoes. Tired posture. One more invisible worker in one more expensive room. She kept her eyes down and moved toward the piano, kneeling to polish the carved wood.
Then, the screaming changed direction. Fast footsteps slapped down the hallway, and a small body shot into the room like a storm.
Leo.
His dark curls were wild, his hazel eyes blazing. He had a heavy wooden train clutched in one hand. Before Matteo could even say his name, the boy hurled it across the room. It struck the cleaning girl hard on the shoulder.
She gasped, dropping her cloth.
Leo rushed her, his fists already raised. He kicked her sharply in the knee, using all the furious force in his little body. Matteo took a step forward, expecting the girl to yelp, back away, or scream. Most did.
Instead, she flinched, lowered herself even more, and looked straight at the raging toddler.
“That was a very big throw,” she said softly. Not syrupy. Not frightened. “And that was a very strong kick.”
Leo froze, his chest heaving.
“You must be feeling something really big in there,” she whispered, resting a hand on her own chest. “Something too big to carry by yourself. If you need to hit again, you can. But I’m not going to yell at you. And I’m not going to leave.”
Leo’s lower lip shook. The rage on his face cracked like glass under pressure. The girl opened one hand and rested it between them on the floor. A choice.
Leo took one wavering step forward. Then another. And then, to Matteo Duca’s complete disbelief, his son leaned against the girl’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around her neck.
May you like
He kissed her cheek.
Matteo’s crystal glass slipped from his fingers and exploded against the marble. Neither of them looked up. Leo buried his face against the cleaning girl’s neck and, for the first time in nearly two years, he sobbed. Not with rage, but with deep, broken grief.
