Chapter 5 - A Father Who Never Knew
Hazel ran for the door.
Mateo caught up in the stairwell.
“Hazel.”
“That’s my brother.”
“It could be a trap.”
“Then come with me.”
They crossed the street.
The opposite building was empty.
No Caleb.
Only a room with a chair facing the window.
On the chair lay a phone.
Hazel answered when it rang.
“Caleb?”
Her brother breathed into the line.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“You’ve been watching Noah?”
“No.”
“Then who has?”
A pause.
“Someone who knew about him before Mateo did.”
Hazel looked at Mateo.
“Who?”
“I thought keeping quiet would protect you.”
“Caleb, who?”
“Victor isn’t the top.”
Mateo stepped closer.
“Ask him who C.B. is.”
Hazel did.
Caleb went silent.
Then whispered, “You found the payments.”
“Yes.”
“They aren’t to me.”
“I know.”
“C.B. is Claudia Bell.”
Hazel frowned.
“Who is that?”
Mateo went still.
Hazel noticed.
“You know her.”
Mateo took the phone.
“Caleb. Where did you hear that name?”
“I found Victor’s records.”
“Where?”
“In the place your father used to keep his private books.”
Mateo’s expression changed.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“Claudia Bell died twenty-two years ago.”
Caleb laughed bitterly.
“No, Mateo. That’s what your father told you.”
The call ended.
Hazel stared at Mateo.
“Who is Claudia?”
“My mother’s sister.”
“You told me your mother was an only child.”
“That’s what I was told.”
Back at the apartment, Mateo sat with Noah while Hazel made dinner because cooking was the only thing keeping her hands steady.
Noah pushed toy cars across the table.
Mateo watched.
“You don’t know how to talk to him,” Hazel said.
“No.”
“Start small.”
Mateo considered.
“What’s your favorite dinosaur?”
Noah looked offended.
“I’m five, not three.”
Hazel hid a smile.
Mateo nodded gravely.
“My mistake.”
Noah studied his tattoos.
“Did those hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you get them?”
“Some remind me of people.”
“Is there one for my mom?”
Silence.
Mateo rolled his sleeve farther.
On the inside of his forearm was a tiny sprig of thyme.
Hazel stopped chopping.
She had never seen it.
“When?”
“After you left.”
Noah grinned.
“That’s Mom’s restaurant.”
“I know.”
Hazel turned away before Mateo saw her face.
Later, after Noah slept, Mateo told her about Claudia.
His mother, Sofia, had once mentioned a younger sister during a fever.
Mateo had been nine.
His father later said Claudia had died in an accident.
No photograph remained.
No grave Mateo knew of.
“Why would she be paid to watch Noah?”
“I don’t know.”
Hazel folded her arms.
“And why would your father lie?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“So everything leads to dead people and missing people.”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful.”
Mateo looked at her.
“I owe you more than answers.”
Hazel said nothing.
“I believed evidence that had been placed in front of me because I was angry.”
“You believed the worst of me.”
“Yes.”
The admission surprised her.
“I was wrong.”
Hazel’s eyes filled.
“Do you know what hurt most?”
Mateo waited.
“You didn’t accuse me. If you had screamed, I could have screamed back. You just looked at me like I had become a stranger.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“Of losing control.”
She laughed softly.
“You lost me instead.”
“I know.”
Mateo looked toward Noah’s room.
“And I lost five years with him.”
Hazel stiffened.
“That wasn’t only my decision.”
“No.”
He met her eyes.
“But it wasn’t only mine.”
That truth hurt because it was fair.
Hazel had reasons.
Good ones.
But Noah had still grown up without knowing his father existed.
“I thought you were dangerous for him.”
“I am.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It isn’t meant to be.”
Mateo leaned forward.
“But I would die before I let anyone hurt him.”
Hazel shook her head.
“That’s exactly the problem with men like you. You think dying is the greatest proof of love.”
“What is?”
“Staying.”
Mateo went silent.
The apartment buzzer sounded.
Dante checked the monitor.
No one.
Then a second buzz.
A package had been left downstairs.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Not Noah’s.
Mateo’s.
Hazel read it.
Mother: Sofia Lombardi.
Father: Antonio Lombardi.
Everything normal.
Then Mateo turned it over.
A handwritten note had been taped to the back.
YOUR FATHER SIGNED THE WRONG CHILD.
Below it was a hospital record.
Two male infants.
Born the same night.
Hazel looked up.
“Mateo?”
He stared at the second name.
Christian Bell.
The apartment door clicked.
Someone had unlocked it from the outside.
Mateo rose slowly.
May you like
The handle began to turn.
And a woman’s voice said, “Mateo, I’m your aunt.”
