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L ivia Nardelli. What is going on here?’

Uh-oh. Ma’s tone. My full name delivered in the same voice my PE teacher used when she caught me and Isla sneaking a Snickers behind the bus shelter instead of taking the proper route on the cross-country run.

That sinking feeling in my gut is the same, too.

Only this time, I’m eating one of Ren’s Chantilly cream cannoli instead of a chocolate bar.

‘Why was that man here?’ Ma beams her eye lasers at me and it’s like she can see the secrets I’ve crammed inside.

‘Man?’ I play for time, pretending the word is foreign to me, one I’ve never heard in English or Italian.

Ma inhales through her nose. Loudly. Slowly. ‘ Sì , Livia. The one who was looking around the bar as if it belonged to him.’

I gulp. She has no idea how close to the truth that is.

Giulio’s micro-frown begs me to keep quiet, but I can’t. I can’t lie to her any more. Not when Bertolli has just taken away any hope we had of fixing this ourselves.

‘He’s from the bank. His name is Bertolli.’ I draw a deep breath like I’ve finally taken off something too tight. ‘And the bar is in debt. Badly in debt.’

For a moment, Ma just stares, and my stomach churns.

‘We didn’t want to worry you,’ I continue, my voice quieter now. ‘You’ve already got so much going on with Nina...’

‘What debt?’ Ma puffs up like an angry cat; her words hiss. ‘You’ve been here for...what? Four weeks? And you think you run this place? That you know everything? That you can keep something like this from me?’

Her words land like a slap. Four weeks. Like that’s all I am – as if everything I’ve been doing, everything I’ve been trying to prove, can just be brushed off.

Like I don’t really belong here.

‘And you’re sure Bertolli’s a bank manager, sì ?’ Ma searches my face. ‘You’re sure he isn’t...something else?’

I shake my head, half in answer, half in confusion. Why is she asking me that?

Giulio steps forward. ‘Livia wanted to tell you . . . but—’

Ma spins on him. ‘This is Nina’s doing, isn’t it? She told you not to trust me.’

‘No!’ I clutch Ma’s arm. ‘Nina doesn’t know either. I mean...she knows about the loan, obviously. But she doesn’t know Bertolli’s demanding settlement. And the only reason I didn’t tell you immediately is that I didn’t want this to be another thing for you two to argue about!’

I practically shouted that last bit. Out of the corner of my eye, Kenzi tries to catch my attention, her face saying – everything OK? And Sofia and Ren look ready to jump out of their seats to back me up.

Ma opens her mouth, but I’m on a roll now.

‘You’ve been so weird about the language swap...like you’re not happy business has picked up...like you want the bar to fail. I wasn’t sure you’d be on our side.’

Ma gawps at me like a landed fish.

Signora Pedretti, who has been unashamedly listening in, rests a comforting hand on Ma’s back. ‘Livia has a point, Caterina. You asked me to gauge how Adelina feels about retiring. You’ve been torn about this bar’s future for a while now.’

Ma’s jaw clenches. When she speaks, her voice is barely audible, but I hear the hurt in it. ‘I should’ve been told.’

A quiet settles over us, with just the chatter of the language swap to mask the tension. Ma takes a deep breath, then slowly exhales. ‘I need to know everything. No more secrets.’ Her eyes move between Giulio and me. ‘And you two are coming with me to the hospital tomorrow.’