When I was twelve my Papa found one of the men who killed my mother. He kept the guy locked up for weeks.
I was home for winter break, my mind was stuck on the Harry Potter books and the painting I was working on was my vision of Hogwarts.
Papa called for me, he always sent our house ladies. This time he sent a soldier to call me, Quintin. I followed him down to the study unaware of what I was walking into. When I knocked on his door, he told me to come in.
It was the middle of winter and I had this baggy old t-shirt Filippo gave me, with sleeping beauty painted on it in mixed colors.
Papa told me to hurry up, and I knew he was in the secret room behind the bookshelves. The one we were forbidden to go in.
He told me to come, not be scared. I was twelve, he was allowing me into a forbi
