“Does Emily know?”
“No.”
“Will she?”
“Not unless she asks.”
Emily eventually met Lorenzo six weeks later.
It happened at a community center.
Her school had organized a food drive.
Emily volunteered because she remembered what hunger felt like.
She was carrying a box of canned goods when she saw him.
Tall.
Black suit.
Dark coat.
Stillness that made everyone around him seem louder.
She recognized him immediately.
She had seen his picture online.
Lorenzo Moretti.
She stopped walking.
He looked at her.
For a few seconds, neither spoke.
Then Lorenzo said:
“Emily.”
She nodded.
“You’re him.”
“Yes.”
“The wrong number.”
A faint smile touched his face.
“The wrong number.”
Emily looked at the box in her arms.
“Why did you help us?”
Lorenzo didn’t answer immediately.
“Because your brother was hungry.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
She studied him.
“You’re really a mafia boss?”
Lorenzo almost smiled.
