“No. Someone called earlier, and he said he had to go. I don’t know who it was, but it sounded urgent. Maybe he’s in a meeting and turned off his phone?”
“Luca never does that.”
“Will there be a band?” Rosa asks. “Or a DJ?”
“I’ve hired a jazz band.”
“Oh no, that’s boring. And Dad hates jazz.”
“I know.” I laugh at the same time as Damian’s phone rings.
He looks at the screen and takes the call. A moment later he abruptly gets up from his chair. For a few seconds, he just listens to the person on the other end, his face going ghostly white, then nods.
“We’re coming right away,” he says and disconnects the call. “Rosa, go to your room.”
“But I haven’t—”
“Now!” he shouts.
Rosa jumps up off her chair and dashes upstairs as I stare at Damian. I’ve never heard him raise his voice.
“We
