What begins as a vacation in Italy for Professor Hillary Broome’s family turns into a nightmare when her gay teenage daughter Claire disappears. Hillary uncovers an ominous plot led by Father Tommaso, who aims to reverse women's rights progress. Battling personal demons and confronting her past, Hillary races against time to save Claire. The story intertwines themes of family, redemption, and societal progress, set against a backdrop of religious conspiracy.
Woman Found Dead in Trevi
By Angela Narratrice. BBC News• Updated: Thur -
06/015/2023
Italian police are hunting for the killer of a young woman discovered early Wednesday in the Trevi Fountain. A barista on his way to work described a slim figure dressed in black carrying something over his shoulder. “He dumped a bundle into the Trevi and ran off onto a side street.”
Chamber of Deputies leader Elly Schlein expressed outrage and noted that Italy faces a “surge in femicides.” Schlein, a leader in the LGBTQ rights movement, reported one of her aides missing after an explosion near the Coliseum during Rome’s Pride Parade. “We hope these crimes are not connected.” Identification of the victim is pending notification of family.
HILLARY
Hillary poured cream into her Intenso coffee to round out the bitterness. If only she could pour a mantle of protection around her teenaged daughter, Claire.
Claire’s closet held plenty of rainbow-themed clothes, but she wanted something new for the Pride parade. Last night, she had searched through a stack of tee shirts at Walmart. She pressed a shirt against her chest to show Hillary. An old man walked by and scowled at Claire. Hillary stepped in front of him and nodded approval at her daughter’s Love is Love selection.
This morning, sunlight streamed through the patio doors into the dining room and cast a golden finish on the Italian provincial table and credenza. Italian. So beautiful. After the Pride parade here at home, they’d fly to New York, then to Rome.
Hillary concentrated on the coming week. Claire was eager to march with her friends to the state capitol. Hillary blew on her coffee as her husband Ed scanned the news on his iPad. He let out a low whistle, his jade green eyes narrowed to slits, and handed the device across the table to her.
The Sacramento Bee headline blared: Local AntiLGBTQ Crimes Doubled
As Hillary glanced through the story, a bolt of fear shot through her. She gave back the iPad and said, “There’s supposed to be good security on the parade route, yes?” She dragged her fingers through her hair, twisted it into a loose bun and stabbed it in place with her favorite tortoise shell hair pin.
Ed shook his head and turned to pull a small cigar from a box on the credenza. “I’ll be working security at the arena. I won’t be able to keep an eye on the parade.”
Claire waltzed in through the dining room archway, sporting her new Love is Love tee shirt and denim skirt stamped with a huge rainbow. “How do I look?” She spread her arms and gave a twirl, slowed by her cork-soled walking sandals.
Hillary smiled. “Beautiful.”
“What do you mean, Dad, keep an eye on the parade?” At the credenza, Claire slipped a pod into the Nespresso machine and hit the start button.
“You know, for any haters that might want to rain on the parade.” He rolled the little cigar back and forth, clamped it unlit between his teeth, and spoke around the cigar. “City cops are all in. They should handle any clashes.” He took the cigar out and pointed it at Hillary. “Your mother will be there, too. She’s put away a few bad dudes in her day.”
Claire frowned. “My squad doesn’t need babysitting.”
Hillary’s stomach clenched. Claire was naive. She’d been so protected.
Ed tapped his iPad. “Hate crime’s up lately. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, daughter.”
Claire fluffed her short blond hair, so it stood out in soft curls. “Okay, I’m petite for a point guard, but good at karate, better than Mom. Just worry about her.”
Hillary choked on her coffee, sputtered, and pressed her napkin against her lips.
“We line up before the parade in that same place as last year, right, Mom?” Claire blew on her Cappuccino.
It took Hillary a couple seconds to catch her breath before she answered. “Yes. Southside Park, near the freeway, but keep alert, know who’s near you. It isn’t so much the homeless in the park as those socalled Christians marching up and down with signs saying ‘LGBTQ = End Time Abomination.’”
Claire laughed. “Don’t be gloomy, Mom. The parade’s going to be fun. And next week’s good times
in New York. Paisley’s coming, isn’t she?” Hillary looked at Ed.
He gave a slight nod and said, “I hope so, honey. Your grandmother is excited about seeing the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But her plans aren’t certain yet.”
Hillary cleared her throat. “I’d love it to be just the three of us getting away together.” She smiled at her daughter. “The way we used to.”
Claire wrinkled her nose. “What’s with you, Mom? Of course, Paisley’s coming,” she said brightly.
“Who wouldn’t want to go to New York and Italy?” Hillary worked to keep her expression neutral.
Claire downed her coffee in a few swallows. “Have to go change. Basketball practice at 10:00. Got to try out my new Nikes.” She dashed out and down the hall.
Hillary glared at Ed. “I wish you’d support me on this.” She clenched her fist and set it next to her coffee mug. “Paisley’s keeping us guessing. It’s selfish of her making me wait to make reservations.”
“I know, but your mixed message is confusing for Claire.”
Hillary bounced her fist on the tabletop, and said, “This is my summer break. I deserve to have some fun.”
“Hey, Professor.” Ed put his unlit cigar back into the box and reached across the table. “When you rescued your mother and brought her here, you signed up for this.”
“Paisley owes me an apology.” Hillary clenched her jaw.
“You know Paisley’s not the apologizing kind.”
Hillary sipped at her Intenso and tried to swallow her anger. “Putting up with her has been more than I imagined.”
“Like I’ve been more than you imagined from back when that butcher was cutting up managers in the superstore?” He took her hand, opened her fist and bent to kiss her palm.
“Mmmmm,” she murmured, rocking side to side. “My detective partner. What we’ve been through.”
Claire yelled goodbye and slammed shut the front door.
Ed planted little kisses along the inside of Hillary’s arm and whispered, “And more to come, Genevieve.”
There it was. His pet name for her. Hillary let go her hurt and anger. She melted into the warm summer morning, alone in the house with Ed. Her rock.