Chapter 10 - The People Nobody Wanted to Take In
"Thirty days?"
Peter took the closure notice from Dante's hands.
He read it twice.
Then he looked at Marta.
"Where are the families living now?"
"Mostly in temporary apartments and a leased residence near the harbor. The lease expires next month."
"How many are still waiting for permanent housing?"
"Nineteen families."
Elise glanced toward Ivy.
The little girl had stopped playing with Argo.
"Do they have kids?"
Marta nodded.
"Some do, sweetheart."
Ivy considered this.
"Where will they sleep?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Dante took back the notice.
"I'll find another building."
It was the kind of statement that had once settled every problem in his world.
Money.
Property.
Influence.
He had all three.
But Peter shook his head.
"That's how Harbor House got into trouble."
Dante turned.
"Explain."
"You wanted to solve a problem quickly. Silas wanted the same thing. Everyone kept moving because stopping felt like failure."
Peter pointed toward the notice.
"These families need somewhere safe. Not just somewhere expensive."
Dante studied him.
"You think I haven't learned that?"
"I think you have. I'm asking you to prove it."
The words stung.
But Dante knew Peter was right.
The next morning, they met with housing advocates, inspectors, and representatives from the temporary residence.
The situation was worse than the closure notice suggested.
Several residents had already been moved multiple times.
One elderly woman had spent eight months sharing a room with her adult daughter.
A single father with two young sons was working overnight shifts and struggling to keep the boys in their school.
A grandmother named Ruth had been sleeping in a converted office because the residence had no accessible bedroom available.
Marta spread a list of names across the conference table.
"These aren't numbers," she said. "They're people."
Dante looked at the list.
He recognized some names from earlier foundation reports.
Back then, they had appeared beside expenses and occupancy percentages.
Now each belonged to a family whose life had been interrupted.
He closed the folder.
"Find me a place that's already licensed for residential accommodation. No shortcuts."
Peter nodded.
For the first time, the two men were working toward the same goal without one expecting obedience from the other.
Three days later, Marta identified a possibility.
St. Brigid's Retreat House.
A former religious retreat center outside Boston that had once provided temporary accommodation for families attending hospital treatment.
The property had twenty-four furnished residential suites, a commercial kitchen, accessible bathrooms, and a large courtyard.
It had been mostly empty for two years.
Its residential permits were still active.
And its trustees had been searching for a responsible organization to manage it.
Dante visited with Peter, Elise, and Marta.
The building was modest compared with the Castellani estate.
The floors were old.
The dining room needed repainting.
Several doors required new hardware.
But the bedrooms were clean, the windows opened properly, and the fire exits led directly outside.
Peter spent most of the tour examining the emergency systems.
At one point, Elise watched him test a door.
He opened it.
Closed it.
Then opened it again.
She knew why.
He was checking that nobody could be trapped.
Dante watched silently.
When the inspection ended, Peter spoke.
"This place could work. But I want every safety issue corrected before anyone moves in."
"Agreed," Dante replied.
Marta smiled for the first time that week.
They met with the retreat house's director, Sister Miriam, a seventy-year-old woman with sharp eyes and a voice that made even Dante sit up straighter.
She listened to their proposal.
Then she asked one question.
"Who will control the money?"
Dante answered.
"The Castellani Foundation can provide—"
"No."
He stopped.
Sister Miriam folded her hands.
"Your foundation is under investigation. I'm aware that you helped correct a terrible injustice, Mr. Castellani. I'm also aware of your reputation."
Dante looked at her.
"Then you know I can make this happen."
"I know you can pay for it."
She leaned forward.
"That is not the same thing."
Peter glanced at Dante.
For once, the Mafia boss had no immediate response.
Sister Miriam continued.
"These families have already suffered because powerful people controlled decisions that should have belonged to the community."
Elise nodded slowly.
"She's right."
Dante looked at her.
She didn't apologize.
"The families need stability," Elise said. "They also need a voice."
Dante stared at the old retreat house through the window.
He could arrange the financing.
He could arrange the repairs.
He could probably persuade city officials to help.
But perhaps those weren't the most important things.
"What would you require?" he asked.
Sister Miriam slid a proposed operating agreement across the table.
"Independent management. Public financial reporting. Resident representation. Proper inspections."
Dante nodded.
"Reasonable."
"And one final condition."
He looked up.
Sister Miriam's expression did not soften.
"The Castellani family may support the project, but it will not control it."
Dante remained silent.
Then she pointed toward the entrance.
"I won't put your name on that building, Mr. Castellani."
May you like
She paused.
"And if you insist on having your name on its doors or your family controlling its board, those doors will stay closed."
