Chapter 4 - Twenty-Three Years Ago
St. Catherine's should have been empty.
It wasn't.
A light burned on the fourth floor.
Daniel wanted me to stay in the car.
Salvatore wanted the same thing.
I ignored both of them.
“If there's a letter with my name on it, I'm going.”
Salvatore studied me.
Then nodded once.
“Stay beside me.”
“I don't need protecting.”
“I didn't say you did.”
That answer irritated me less than it should have.
The hospital smelled like dust and old plaster.
Renovation fencing surrounded half the building, but a side entrance had been opened.
We climbed the stairs.
Room 417 waited at the end of the corridor.
The door stood open.
Victor Constantino sat inside.
He looked like an older, rougher version of Salvatore.
Thomas Vale was nowhere to be seen.
Victor looked at his brother.
“Twenty-three years.”
Salvatore stopped.
“You could have called.”
“You wouldn't have answered.”
“Try me.”
Victor almost smiled.
Then he saw me.
“Lily Bennett.”
I hated how many strangers knew my name.
“You have something belonging to me.”
Victor nodded toward a metal case.
“I have something belonging to Anna.”
Salvatore stepped forward.
“Where is Thomas?”
“Gone.”
“With what?”
“Nothing.”
Victor opened the case.
Documents filled it.
Original trust papers.
Letters.
Medical records.
A sealed envelope.
LILY BENNETT.
My hands trembled.
Victor gave it to me.
I opened it.
Anna's handwriting covered three pages.
Dear Lily,
You won't remember me.
But today you sat on my bed and stole three strawberries from my lunch tray...
I laughed through tears.
The letter wasn't about money.
It was about courage.
About my mother.
About the life Anna hoped I would have.
At the end, she wrote:
If Salvatore ever meets you, don't let him frighten you. He has spent his whole life pretending strength means needing no one. I tried to teach him otherwise.
I looked up.
Salvatore had turned away.
Victor watched him.
“She knew you too well.”
“Why did you disappear?” Salvatore asked.
Victor's face changed.
“Because Thomas told me he'd destroy the foundation if I didn't.”
“How?”
“He had forged documents tying the trust to illegal transfers inside one of our companies.”
Salvatore's eyes narrowed.
“Transfers he made.”
“Yes.”
“And you took responsibility.”
“Yes.”
“You let me hate you for twenty-two years.”
Victor's voice broke.
“I let you keep Anna's name out of a scandal.”
Salvatore crossed the room.
For one second I thought he might strike him.
Instead, he stopped inches away.
“You should have trusted me.”
Victor looked at him.
“You were burying your wife. I couldn't hand you another war.”
“You were my brother.”
“I still am.”
The words landed hard.
Then footsteps sounded in the corridor.
Thomas Vale appeared.
He was in his seventies now.
Elegant coat.
Silver glasses.
No weapon.
Only a folder.
“You always were sentimental, Victor.”
Daniel moved between him and us.
Thomas raised one hand.
“Relax. I came to negotiate.”
“There is nothing to negotiate,” Salvatore said.
Thomas smiled.
“There is always something.”
He held up the folder.
Inside were copies of the original trust documents.
“If these become public,” he said, “questions will be asked about why the foundation never existed.”
“Good,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
Thomas's smile faded.
“Excuse me?”
“Let them ask.”
“You don't understand.”
“No. You don't.”
I stepped forward.
“You've spent twenty-three years assuming everyone else cares about money as much as you do.”
Thomas studied me.
“You're standing beside forty-two million dollars, Miss Bennett.”
“No. I'm standing beside twenty-three years of somebody else's lie.”
Salvatore looked at me.
Thomas did too.
Then he laughed.
“You really don't know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“The trust isn't worth forty-two million.”
Salvatore frowned.
Thomas smiled.
“It is worth considerably more.”
He opened the folder.
Current valuation.
$118,600,000.
My stomach dropped.
“Anna's original investments appreciated,” Thomas said. “Property. Equity. Compounding.”
Salvatore didn't even look at the number.
“What do you want?”
“Immunity from civil action.”
“No.”
“Then the documents disappear.”
Victor laughed.
“You don't have the originals.”
Thomas's expression shifted.
Victor tapped the metal case.
“I do.”
For the first time, Thomas looked afraid.
Daniel called the authorities.
There was no dramatic chase.
No violence.
Thomas simply realized the game he'd been playing for twenty-three years had ended.
But before he left, he looked directly at me.
“Ask your mother why Anna really chose you.”
I stiffened.
“What does that mean?”
Thomas smiled.
“Elena never told you?”
Salvatore moved toward him.
Thomas continued.
“Ask her who your father was.”
My blood went cold.
“My father abandoned us.”
“Is that what she said?”
“Yes.”
Thomas looked at Salvatore.
Then back at me.
“Interesting.”
He walked away with Daniel following.
I turned toward Victor.
“What did he mean?”
Victor shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Salvatore's face told me something different.
“You know.”
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“Because Thomas wanted you to react.”
“Who was my father?”
“I don't know.”
I believed him.
Mostly.
We drove back before dawn.
At the care center, Mom was asleep.
I didn't wake her.
I sat beside her bed until sunrise.
At 6:20, she opened her eyes.
“You found the letter.”
“How did you know?”
“Because you're wearing the pendant.”
I touched it.
Then I asked:
“Who was my father?”
Her expression changed.
“Lily—”
“Don't.”
She closed her eyes.
“His name was Michael Bennett.”
“I know his name.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“That wasn't his real name.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“What was it?”
Mom reached for my hand.
Before she could answer, a nurse entered.
“Elena? There's someone here asking for you.”
“Who?”
The nurse looked uncomfortable.
“He says he's Lily's father.”
I stood.
Mom went white.
May you like
Footsteps stopped outside the room.
The door slowly opened.
