Page 122 of Lorenzo

“You’re cleared,” he says.

Alessio closes his eyes.

Edoardo holds him there for a second, then wraps an arm around his shoulders.

Alessio lets out a breath that sounds as though he has been holding it since the night Genevieve died.

Edoardo releases, and Alessio drags one hand over his face.

“They really believe it was her?”

“They believe there is enough evidence to investigate her and no longer treat you as the primary suspect.”

Edoardo returns to the island and reaches for the bottle near his abandoned glass.

This time, he pours.

One for Alessio.

One for himself.

Then he looks at me and lifts the bottle.

I nod.

He grabs another glass and pours a third.

Alessio comes back to the island and picks up his glass.

His hand is steady now.

“To Donna,” Edoardo says.

Alessio glances at him.

“I'll admit, I had little faith in her, but hell, it took her less than a week,” he says. “She did a hell of a job.”

Alessio raises his glass slightly. “To Donna.”

“To Donna,” I say.

We drink.

The alcohol burns down my throat.

For the first time in days, I allow myself to feel the weight easing from my chest.

My son will no longer be the easiest answer for the police. They have Rachel. They have the records. They have proof she watched him long before the night at the Halston.

It does not restore what she took from him.

But it gives us some breathing room.

Edoardo sets his glass down. “Did Rachel say who helped her?”

“No.”

“Did you find anything that tells us?”