Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay (The Neapolitan Novels, #3)

by Elena Ferrante

I’m sorry I made you come at this hour, my mind’s no help to me, it’s coming unglued like wallpaper, luckily you’re here. “What’s happening?” I asked, and moved to caress her hand. That question, that gesture were enough. She opened her eyes wide, clenched her hand, abruptly pulled it away. “I’m not well,” she said, “but wait, don’t be scared, I’ll calm down now.” She became calm. She said softly, enunciating the words: “I’ve disturbed you, Lenù, because you have to make me a promise, you’re the only person I trust: if something happens to me, if I end up in the hospital, if they take me to the insane asylum, if they can’t find me anymore, you have to take Gennaro, you have to keep him with you, bring him up in your house. Enzo is good, he’s smart, I trust him, but he can’t give the child the things you can.” “Why are you talking like that? What’s wrong? If you don’t explain I can’t understand.” “First promise.” “All right.” She became agitated again, alarming me. “No, you mustn’t say all right; you must say here, now, that you’ll take the child. And if you need money, find Nino, tell him he has to help you. But promise: I will bring up the child.” I looked at her uncertainly. But I promised. I promised and I sat and listened to her all night long.