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Raze pushed away from the column. “Well. The prodigal son returneth,” he snickered.

Tone said nothing, which was worse than anything any of them could have said.

Adriana stepped out of the car behind me.

Every eye shifted to her.

I moved before thought could slow me. Half a step. Enough to place myself between her and the full weight of them.

Tone’s eyes moved from Adriana to me. Something cold passed through her face. Understanding.

Adriana stood close behind my shoulder. I didn’t look back at her.

Tone finally spoke.

“A priest,” she said flatly. She stared back with bright, furious eyes. “A priest near Rome. For ten years. Under our noses the whole time.”

The irony was not lost on her.

The man behind her shifted, but did not touch her.

“How could you?” Tone roared.

The words ripped out of her with such force that every man went still. Because they knew what it meant when Antonella Cavalho lost her composure.

Tone looked to me, her face pale with fury, her eyes bright with ten years of grief finally finding a body to stand in front of.

“You were alive,” she said. “Alive. Breathing. Eating. Sleeping under a roof. Wearing a collar. Letting strangers call you Father while we kept searching for your body.”

I had no defence.

“Papa died, and you just left. We buried two men that day.” Her voice cracked on Papa, then hardened again, as if she hated that weakness had escaped her lips. “Do you understand that? Do you understand what that did to us?”

I couldn’t answer.

She laughed once, sharp and ugly. “Of course you don’t. Because you weren’t here. You didn’t see us lose sleep over you. You didn’t see Marcello tear apart every lead until there was nothing left. You didn’t see Alessio standing at the east gate like a fool, waiting for you to come home, because he said he would know if you were dead.”

The space between us disappeared around the edges.

Tone took one step forward then stopped.

“And me? Do you want to know what I did? I hated you. Then I mourned you. Then I hated myself for mourning you because a part of me knew you had chosen another life over us.”

Her hand struck her own chest.

“Over us, Demi. Your family. The people who would have burned cities for you.”

I swallowed, but there was nothing in my throat except a dryness I couldn’t shake.

She shook her head, looking at me as if she couldn’t decide whether to scream or cry.

“You saw what I was becoming,” I replied, though the words were too small for the damage between us.

Tone’s mouth twisted.

“And did leaving save you?” she asked. “Did your noble little vanishing act make you cleaner? Kinder? Did it stop the blood? Did it spare anyone?”

Her eyes filled, but the tears didn’t fall. She came closer still, close enough that I could see the tremor in her mouth.