“Word gets around the docks,” Silvio replied. “People talk when a private ambulance pulls up to the gates in the middle of the night.”

Silvio’s eyes locked onto me.

“And who is she?” he asked. “She doesn’t look like Dr. Marcone.”

“She is a nurse,” Leo said quickly. “She is keeping him stable.”

“I was a nursing student,” I corrected, my voice steadier than I expected.

Leo shot me a warning look, his eyes narrowing to thin slits.

“She is here to witness the transfer of authority,” Leo said, tapping the paper on the desk. “Dominic is signing the power of attorney over to me until he recovers.”

Silvio walked over to the desk, his heavy leather shoes squeaking on the polished hardwood.

He looked down at the document, then at the silver pen still gripped in my hand.

“Dominic,” Silvio said, leaning over the desk. “Is this what you want?”

Dominic slowly raised his head.

His skin was the color of old parchment, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

“The family,” Dominic whispered, his voice cracking. “The family must be protected.”