good childcare.”
“Did Uncle Sandro babysit?”
He almost choked.
“No.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t know you were here.”
Mia stared at him.
“How?”
Alessandro frowned.
“That is an excellent question.”
I smiled.
“People weren’t talking to each other very well.”
Mia accepted this.
“Did you get in trouble?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I got a warning.”
She gasped.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
“That babies should not be hidden in laundry rooms.”
Mia considered.
“That seems obvious.”
Alessandro laughed so hard he had to sit down.
She was right.
It was obvious.
Most important truths are.
The hard part is building lives where people can say them aloud.
Mia grew.
At twelve, she learned the fuller story.
Not David’s every mistake.
Not Marco’s private shame.
Just enough.
Her mother had been scared of losing a job.
Rules were unclear.
People made assumptions.
Other people corrected them.
Her biological father made mistakes
