Luca kept his eyes on the road, his jaw tight.

“You think he was keeping you prisoner because he hated you, Elena,” Luca said quietly.

“He kept me in the dark about everything,” I said, the bitterness rising in my throat.

“There’s a reason for that,” Luca said, turning the SUV onto a narrow, unplowed side street.

The branches of the pine trees scraped against the sides of the car like fingernails.

The wind howled outside, shaking the heavy frame of the vehicle.

My phone was dead in my pocket, its battery drained by the cold and the constant search for a signal.

I rubbed my hands together, trying to restore warmth to my fingers.

“He was protecting his assets,” I said.

“No,” Luca said, shaking his head. “He was protecting you.”

He didn’t elaborate, and the tension in the car grew heavier than the storm outside.

We drove in silence for thirty minutes, the heater struggling to keep the windshield clear.

The city lights faded behind us, replaced by the deep, oppressive darkness of the northern suburbs.