Page 58 of Pietro

"We're leaving." I pick up the dropped tomatoes, my other hand finding Nora's elbow.

"No need to rush off." Connor's smile could freeze blood. "Just making conversation."

"I don't like talking with you Connor."

We stand locked in silent combat, neither backing down. Connor's men shift restlessly. Nora hasn't moved, hasn't breathed. Her fingers dig into my arm where I'm holding her.

Finally, Connor steps back. "Fair enough. Although we will talk soon again. Enjoy your bread."

They leave, the bell chiming cheerfully in their wake.

Nora sags against me, her breath coming in short gasps. I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her upright.

"We're going. Now."

Mrs. Romano appears with a bag of bread, pressing it into my free hand. "No charge. Go."

I guide Nora out the back exit, my body coiled for attack. The alley is clear. I get her to the car, practically lifting her into the passenger seat.

She's shaking. Full body tremors that rattle her teeth.

I peel out of the alley, taking corners at random, checking mirrors for tails. Only when I'm certain we're clear do I pull over.

"You know him."

"I've seen his picture. In the files." Her voice is flat, each word placed with the care of someone reciting a memorized lie.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not?—"

"Nora." I turn in my seat, studying her face. "Your entire body changed when he walked in. You stopped breathing. You dropped the goddamn tomatoes."

Her hands twist in her lap, knuckles white. "I recognized him from the photos. He's dangerous. I was scared."

The lie sits between us like a live wire. I want to push, to demand the truth. But the terror in her eyes stops me. Whatever Connor O'Sullivan is to her, it's nothing good.

I pull out my phone and text Liam.

I need you to dig deeper into Nora Kelly. Specifically any connection to the O'Sullivan family.

Boston or Chicago?Liam texts back.

Both. Go back as far as you can. Birth records, school, everything.

On it.

The drive back to the compound passes in silence. I help carry the groceries to her quarters, noting how she won't meet my eyes. Won't speak beyond monosyllables.

I don't know what secret she's hiding, or what hold O'Sullivan has on her. But I'll find out. I'll find her secret.

NORA

I lock the bathroom door behind me, hands trembling so badly I nearly drop the burner phone. The walls feel like they're closing in. My father. Here. In Chicago.

The phone rings three times before Uncle Finn answers.

"Little fox?" His voice is cautious.