Maya's POV
I woke up on my own couch at eleven with a stiff neck and Luca's jacket draped over me.
He was sitting in the armchair across the room, phone in hand, watching me with the expression of someone who'd been awake for a while thinking about something he hadn't said yet.
"You should have woken me," I said.
"You needed sleep."
I sat up. "What happened?"
He handed me his phone.
I read Morrison's messages twice. The television was off now and the apartment was very quiet, and I sat with the information the way you sit with something that rearranges things you thought were fixed.
Vittorio Santoro had been sending money to a trust for Aria for four years.
Monthly and consistent. From the time Aria was approximately three months old.
"How did he know?" I said.
"He had people wa
