“Everything all right, Mama?”
Sophia smiled and nodded.
Then she signed to me without looking at him.
Watch Carlo when the folder opens.
Dinner continued.
My pulse did not.
Twenty minutes later, Carlo finally moved the folder toward Dante.
“A few administrative approvals,” he said.
“Nothing worth discussing tonight.”
Dante wiped his hands with his napkin.
“Then it can wait until tomorrow.”
Carlo smiled.
“One signature is time-sensitive.”
Sophia watched his mouth.
So did I.
Dante opened the folder.
The pages were full of financial language I could not read from my position.
Sophia leaned subtly toward me.
Carlo began speaking to Dante about transfers, tax deadlines, and a property sale.
Then another man beside Carlo murmured something under his breath.
He assumed Sophia could not hear it.
He also assumed I was merely a hired interpreter.
I caught only six words.
“Once he signs, the old account closes.”
Sophia saw my face.
What?
I signed the sentence.
Her hand went still.
Then she looked directly at Carlo.
For the first time all evening, fear appeared in her eyes.
Not fear for herself.
Fear for Dante.
She signed beneath the table.
Ask Dante what account.
I hesitated.
That would reveal she knew something.
Sophia’s expression sharpened.
Do it.
I leaned toward Dante.
“Your mother wants to know which account is being closed.”
Carlo answered before Dante could.
“It’s routine.”
I looked at him.
“She asked Dante.”
The table went quiet.
Carlo’s smile remained, but his eyes cooled.
Dante turned his head slowly toward me.
“Why does she want to know?”
I signed the question.
Sophia answered.
Because my name is on it.
I translated.
Dante stopped touching the papers.
Carlo gave a short laugh.
“Sophia is confused.”
She saw that.
