“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“Senator Hale’s office has withdrawn Cameron’s missing-person appeal.”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?”
“Because our father donated money to the foundation. Adrian discovered the funds weren’t reaching the people they were intended to help.”
I looked at him.
“Victor Sloane?”
“Ran the financial operation.”
“And Cameron?”
“Worked for him.”
I sat down.
Dante continued.
“Adrian believed someone inside our organization was protecting Sloane.”
I looked up.
“Who?”
Dante’s expression darkened.
“I don’t know.”
For a moment, I thought about all the people surrounding him.
Matteo.
Gabriel.
Isabella.
Lucia.
People who seemed devoted to him.
People who might have reasons to lie.
“Do you trust Gabriel?” I asked.
Dante was quiet.
“With my life.”
“Even after what he hid?”
He looked toward the window.
“That’s what I’m trying to decide.”
***
Later that night, I found Dante on the balcony.
Rain moved across the gardens.
He stood beneath the covered terrace, holding a glass of whiskey.
“You’re going to catch cold,” I said.
He glanced at me.
“That’s not how colds work.”
“You’re ruining my dramatic entrance.”
His mouth twitched.
I stepped beside him.
For a while, we watched the rain.
Then I whispered, “I’m angry with my mother.”
Dante looked at me.
“I know.”
“I spent seven years missing her.”
He said nothing.
“I don’t know what explanation could possibly make that okay.”
“Maybe none.”
I looked up.
His expression was gentle.
“Finding her won’t erase what happened.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“Then why do I still want to?”
“Because she’s your mother.”
I closed my eyes.
A tear slipped down my cheek.
Dante lifted his hand.
Then stopped.
“May I?”
I nodded.
He brushed the tear away with his thumb.
His touch was careful.
Almost reverent.
My heart began pounding.
For a moment, I forgot the rain.
The secrets.
The danger.
Then his phone rang.
He stepped back.
Answered.
Listened.
His face went cold.
“Where?”
A pause.
“I’m coming.”
He ended the call.
I stared at him.
“What happened?”
Dante looked at me.
“Someone found Adrian.”
My breath caught.
“Alive?”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
Then he added:
“And he’s asking for your mother.”
