“Find out when it was taken,” Dante said.
Gabriel nodded.
Then stopped.
“Boss, there’s something you should know.”
Dante looked at him.
Gabriel hesitated.
“The lake identification was never conclusive.”
Silence.
I frowned.
“What lake?”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“Six years ago, police recovered a body from Lake Michigan. Adrian’s watch was found with it.”
I stared.
“You told me he disappeared.”
“Because I never believed the body was his.”
Gabriel looked away.
Dante turned sharply.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Gabriel swallowed.
“The medical examiner raised concerns about the identification. Your father’s former attorney convinced the family to close the matter.”
Dante stared at him.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
Dante laughed once.
A terrible sound.
“Everyone keeps protecting me with lies.”
I felt those words more deeply than I expected.
***
The next morning, Dante left for Chicago.
I stayed at the estate with Lucia and Sofia.
Not because he ordered me to.
Because Detective Mercer had arranged to meet me again.
And because I needed time to understand what I was becoming involved in.
At breakfast, Lucia placed a plate of pancakes before me.
“Eat.”
I smiled faintly.
“Does everyone in this house think food solves everything?”
“No,” she said. “But hunger makes every problem worse.”
I couldn’t argue.
Sofia joined us carrying a newspaper.
“Good news.”
I looked up.
“Please tell me it’s actually good.”
“Senator Hale’s office has withdrawn Cameron’s missing-person appeal.”
I froze.
“Why?”
“Because your attorney sent confirmation that you’re an adult, you’re safe, and you don’t want contact.”
I stared at her.
“My attorney?”
Sofia smiled.
“The one I helped you find yesterday.”
I remembered the consultation.
The forms.
The strange relief of signing my own name without Cameron standing over my shoulder.
For the first time, I realized I was beginning to build something.
Not merely an escape.
A life.
***
That afternoon, Detective Mercer called.
“We found your mother’s original death certificate.”
My heart jumped.
“And?”
“It’s fraudulent.”
I sat down.
“What?”
“The hospital listed on the certificate had no record of her admission. The physician’s signature belongs to a doctor who retired years earlier.”
I pressed a hand against my mouth.
“So she’s alive.”
“The certificate doesn’t establish that she died. Combined with the recent photographs, there’s strong reason to believe she survived.”
I closed my eyes.
Seven years.
Seven years of birthdays without her.
Christmas mornings.
Lonely nights.
The day I graduated.
The day Cameron first hurt me.
She had been alive.
Somewhere.
Why hadn’t she come?
***
Dante returned after sunset.
He looked exhausted.
His black shirt was open at the collar, revealing the dark tattoos climbing his throat.
I found him in the library.
He stood before a photograph of himself and Adrian as boys.
“Did you find anything?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Adrian was investigating Northbridge before he disappeared.”
“Why?”
« Parce que notre père a fait un don à la fondation. Adrian a découvert que les fonds n’atteignaient pas les personnes qu’ils étaient censés aider. »
Je l’ai regardé.
« Victor Sloane ? »
“J’ai géré les opérations financières.”
« Et Cameron ? »
« J’ai travaillé pour lui. »
Je me suis assis.
Dante poursuivit.
« Adrian pensait que quelqu’un au sein de notre organisation protégeait Sloane. »
J’ai levé les yeux.
“OMS?”
Le visage de Dante s’assombrit.
“Je ne sais pas.”
J’ai pensé un instant à toutes les personnes qui l’entouraient.
Matthieu.
Gabriel.
Isabelle.
Lucie.
Des personnes qui semblaient lui être dévouées.
Des personnes qui pourraient avoir des raisons de mentir.
« As-tu confiance en Gabriel ? » ai-je demandé.
Dante était silencieux.
« Avec ma vie. »
« Même après ce qu’il a caché ? »
Il regarda vers la fenêtre.
« C’est ce que j’essaie de décider. »
***
Plus tard dans la nuit, j’ai trouvé Dante sur le balcon.
La pluie traversait les jardins.
Il se tenait sous la terrasse couverte, un verre de whisky à la main.
« Tu vas attraper froid », ai-je dit.
Il m’a jeté un coup d’œil.
« Ce n’est pas comme ça que fonctionnent les rhumes. »
«Tu gâches mon entrée en scène.»
Sa bouche tressaillit.
Je me suis placé à côté de lui.
Pendant un moment, nous avons regardé la pluie.
Alors j’ai murmuré : « Je suis en colère contre ma mère. »
Dante me regarda.
“Je sais.”
« J’ai passé sept ans à la regretter. »
Il n’a rien dit.
« Je ne vois pas quelle explication pourrait justifier cela. »
«Peut-être aucun.»
J’ai levé les yeux.
Son expression était douce.
« La retrouver n’effacera pas ce qui s’est passé. »
Les larmes me sont montées aux yeux.
« Alors pourquoi est-ce que j’en ai encore envie ? »
