Chapter 7 - THE PURPLE MARK
Before Rosa could apologize again or pull her daughter away, Sophia took two steps toward the heavy mahogany door.
She knelt down on her white socks, her lavender dress spreading neatly over the cold, polished Italian marble. With absolute focus, she pressed the tip of her purple crayon directly against the lower wooden panel of the forbidden door, right near the ornate brass frame.
"Sophia! No!" Rosa gasped, her heart leaping into her throat as she reached out to stop her.
"Let her," Dante commanded sharply.
His voice was not angry, but firm, stopping Rosa in her tracks.
Every guard and servant watched in absolute astonishment as the feared mafia boss stood silently, allowing a four-year-old child to draw on a hand-carved, priceless mahogany door that had been imported from Florence fifty years ago.
Sophia carefully drew a single, small, vibrant purple heart at the base of the door. She blew softly on the wax shavings, then stood up, smoothing down her dress with her tiny hands.
She looked up at Dante with a bright, earnest expression.
"Now it won't be sad anymore," Sophia explained simply, slipping the purple crayon back into her front pocket. "Purple makes scary things feel better."
Dante looked down at the tiny purple heart drawn on the dark, polished wood. For three years, that door had represented nothing but pain, regret, and cold, unyielding silence. Yet, in less than five minutes, this tiny child had approached it without fear, leaving behind a mark of bright, innocent warmth.
May you like
Dante’s hand slowly reached into his suit pocket. His fingers brushed against a heavy, antique silver key that he had carried with him every single day since Elena had vanished—a key he had never possessed the courage to use.
He pulled the silver key out into the light, its polished surface catching the fading crimson glow of the evening sun.
