Joe’s shoulders tensed above the hands against the jambs. “How is that an angle?”

Lumi looked up again, in exasperation. “How the Stellacadente trading family of Genoa was all but wiped out by the Plague in thirteen forty-eight, how we lost all our money, how the family survivors began a downward spiral of one failure after another--”

The daughter stopped with the rise of her father’s hand, and he entered the room to ease himself into a swivel chair near the door. “For starters, the name wasn’t ‘Stellacadente.’”

The pen remained motionless. “Where did ‘Stellacadente’ come in, then?”

“‘Stellacadente’ means ‘Falling Star’: it was chosen by your great grandfather at Ellis Island.” Joe rubbed his eyes above a yawn. “But the name’s not important. It’s important that they were importers of furs from Kaffa in the Crimea and silk and spices from--”

The daughter’s look was now one of concern. “You okay, dad?”

Joe’s mouth was now hanging open beneath wide and bleary eyes. “Egypt.”

“Egypt?”

Stellacadente placed his forearms on his thighs. “Where the silk and spices came from, after they were transported by ship up the Red Sea.” Joe rose from his seat. “I need some sleep.”

“But I need more details.”

“Look it up online, kid,” father replied as he kissed his daughter’s hair. “Your Aunt Linda’s got it all on her website.”