At four o’clock, I make a formal appearance before the Tribunal. IVI is a self-governed organization, which means we don’t file grievances through civilian channels. Everything is dealt with at a court specific to each city, fates determined by three Councilors appointed by The Society. In Seattle, this process takes place within the IVI headquarters downtown.
I lodge my missing person report for Gwen, laying out the details of her absence for Councilor Guillory, the head judge. I’m not expecting it to take long, as I’ve provided a rather detailed account of her schedule and anything else they may need, but I’m caught off guard when Councilor Guillory peers down at me from the dais, studying me with interest.
“Might this be related to the emergency review of your guardianship over Nino Marcone?” he asks.
“Pardon me?” I blink at him, clearly unaware of such a request.
He shuffles through some papers before him, gathering details. “Enzo Marcone and Gwen Marcone requested an emergency review of your guardianship just last week. It is rather strange that she should go missing shortly after that, is it not?”
The news is sobering but not entirely unexpected. Enzo is angry with me, and he’s flexing whatever muscle he has available to prove it, but it feels like a betrayal to hear that Gwen participated in the scheme too. This is a problem I didn’t foresee. Not only will they be digging into Gwen’s life, now they’ll be digging into mine too.
“I have nothing to hide,” I answer somberly. “You are welcome to interview me with any questions you might have. As you know, Gwen is like a mother to me, but she is not without her problems. She has been in and out of rehab for alcohol abuse and has required the care of a psychiatric team for years. She hasn’t been quite herself since the loss of her husband and son. The reason Enzo granted the rite of Nino’s care to me was because she was no longer capable of raising a child. I will concede that recently, there have been some issues. It was brought to my attention that Nino was uncomfortable visiting her due to her drinking and yelling. Also, as you are aware, the guards in the Tribunal prison have been turning a blind eye to Enzo’s mistreatment of Nino during his visits. That’s something I brought forward weeks ago.”
“Yes, we are aware of those issues,” Councilor Guillory responds. “The guards in question were replaced, and Enzo is under constant supervision. This is how we know that Gwen came to visit him on Monday.”
Pressure creeps up my spine, and I can already tell I’m not going to like whatever it is they have to say. They’ve blindsided me with this information, and they know it.
“We would have warned you earlier,” Councilor Guillory says. “But the footage was only reviewed last night, and it landed on my desk this morning.”
“Forgive me,” I grit out. “I’m not aware of any recent conversation between them.”
He pushes up his glasses, leaning forward to review what I’m assuming is a transcript. “It appears that Gwen came to him with a photo on her cell phone. She showed him the image and asked if the woman was familiar. Mr. Marcone became visibly upset and told her it was impossible. She responded by informing him it wasn’t, since she was alive and breathing and living in your house with his son. There was a brief acknowledgment from Mr. Marcone followed by an assurance from Gwendolyn Marcone that she would handle it. This was the last time she was seen alive if what you tell us is correct.” He pauses to hold up a photo of Natalia. “Does this woman look familiar, Mr. Scarcello?”
I swallow, at a complete loss for words. My mind is reeling, and I’m desperate to see those transcripts for myself. If what Guillory says is true, then everything I thought I knew is a lie. Enzo really does know Natalia, and Gwen came to the house that night to kill her just as she said. If that’s the case, then how does Elizabeth Hudson fit into this scenario? How is it possible that IVI declared her to be Nino’s mother?
“Mr. Scarcello?” Councilor Guillory snaps his fingers. “We are waiting for your response.”
“My apologies.” I choke on the words. “Yes, I do recognize her. She is my … nanny.”
“I’m sure you won’t insult our intelligence by denying that you know how she is connected to Enzo as well.”
My blood runs cold as I realize they have me cornered. Lying to them now would be a grave mistake. There is only one way out of this situation. It isn’t ideal but telling them the truth may draw on their sense of morality. It’s the only hope I have.
“I believe I do know how they are connected,” I answer cautiously. “But I am waiting for confirmation from a DNA test.”