Chapter 2 - What Leo Heard
Marco Moretti entered smiling.
His smile vanished when he saw Leo.
“Hey, buddy.”
Leo moved behind Lily.
Dominic noticed.
So did I.
Marco was thirty-four, only a few years younger than his brother, though they carried themselves differently.
Dominic’s danger came from stillness.
Marco’s came from charm.
He wore a gray suit without a tie and carried a set of car keys between his fingers.
“What happened in here?” he asked.
Nobody answered.
His gaze traveled over the soap-covered kitchen.
Then to Dominic.
Then to the small paper in Dominic’s hand.
His face changed.
Barely.
But I saw it.
Dominic did too.
“Leo,” Dominic said, “take Lily upstairs.”
Marco raised his palms.
“Wait. Why are we acting like somebody died?”
Dominic stared at him.
Marco seemed to realize his choice of words.
The room cooled instantly.
Leo grabbed Lily’s hand.
I followed them to the hall.
Dominic spoke behind me.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
That was my name.
He rarely used it.
I turned.
“Take them upstairs. Then come back.”
Marco looked at me.
For the first time, his easy smile had disappeared entirely.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti.”
I brought the children to Leo’s bedroom.
Lily climbed onto the rug beside his toy chest.
Leo remained near the door.
“You okay?” I asked him.
He shrugged.
“That isn’t an answer.”
He looked down.
“Did I make Dad mad?”
“No.”
“Uncle Marco said Dad gets mad when people talk about Mom.”
I crouched.
“Your father isn’t mad at you.”
“How do you know?”
Because he had looked devastated.
Because every hard line in his face had cracked the moment he realized what his son had been carrying alone.
“I just know.”
Lily pulled out two toy cars.
“Leo, play.”
Leo shook his head.
“I want to hear them.”
“So do I,” Lily said.
I almost smiled despite myself.
“You two are staying here.”
Lily pouted.
“You need to follow directions this time.”
That earned me two guilty faces.
I closed the door behind me.
When I returned downstairs, the kitchen was empty.
Voices came from Dominic’s study.
The door was partly open.
“You told my six-year-old his mother died because of him?”
Dominic’s voice was quiet.
Marco answered, “That’s not what I said.”
“He remembers the exact words.”
“He’s six.”
“Be careful.”
A pause.
Then Marco said, “You really dragged me here over something a grieving kid misunderstood?”
I entered.
Both men looked at me.
Dominic stood behind his desk.
Marco sat in a leather chair.
Dominic motioned toward another chair.
“Sit.”
I remained standing.
“I’d rather not.”
Marco smiled faintly.
“Smart woman.”
Dominic ignored him.
“Tell me what you heard.”
I felt Marco’s gaze on me.
“From Leo?”
“Yes.”
I repeated it.
Every word.
The house did not like noise anymore.
He missed his mother.
Uncle Marco said the wrong Moretti died.
Marco shook his head.
“This is ridiculous.”
Dominic picked up the blue-crayon message.
“Did you tell him Sofia was not supposed to be in that car?”
Marco leaned back.
“I might have said something close to that.”
“What?”
“I told him accidents are complicated.”
“Not close.”
“Dominic—”
“What did you say?”
Marco’s expression tightened.
“The car was supposed to take you to the airport.”
My stomach dropped.
Dominic did not react.
Marco continued.
“You switched cars at the last minute. Sofia took yours because her driver called in sick.”
Dominic’s face went still.
“So?”
“So technically she wasn’t supposed to be in that car.”
“Why would you tell Leo that?”
“He asked.”
“He was five.”
“He kept asking why she died.”
“And you told him she died because she took my car?”
Marco rubbed his forehead.
“I was trying to explain.”
Dominic walked around the desk.
“You told my son enough for him to believe his mother died in his place.”
“I never said that.”
“Then why did he say the wrong Moretti died?”
Marco did not answer immediately.
That delay mattered.
Dominic stopped in front of him.
“What happened the night Sofia died?”
Marco laughed once.
A nervous sound.
“You know what happened.”
“I know what the police report said.”
“Same thing.”
Dominic leaned down.
“What happened?”
Marco stood.
“This is insane.”
“Sit.”
“I’m not one of your employees.”
“No.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“You’re my brother.”
Marco stared at him.
Something old and ugly existed between them.
I could feel it.
Marco lowered himself back into the chair.
Dominic looked toward me.
“Claire, you can go.”
I blinked.
“You asked me to come back.”
“I needed confirmation. You gave it.”
I was relieved.
Then Marco said, “Actually, maybe she should stay.”
Dominic turned.
“Why?”
Marco looked at me.
“Because she’s the reason Leo started talking.”
I froze.
“That makes no sense.”
“Doesn’t it?”
He stood again.
“Before she got here, the kid barely spoke to anyone about Sofia. Then Claire shows up with that little girl, and suddenly Leo is digging through old photographs and asking questions.”
Dominic’s expression sharpened.
I felt anger replace fear.
“Are you suggesting I encouraged this?”
“I’m suggesting you’re a stranger in my brother’s house.”
“I clean kitchens.”
“And bring your kid to work.”
“Because my sitter canceled twice.”
“Convenient.”
“That’s enough,” Dominic said.
Marco ignored him.
“What do we actually know about her?”
Dominic’s voice dropped.
“Enough.”
Marco looked surprised.
“So you checked.”
Of course he had.
I should have expected that.
A man like Dominic would never hire someone without knowing her history.
Marco gave me a slow look.
“Claire Bennett. Twenty-eight. Widowed?”
My heart tightened.
“Not widowed.”
“Right. Your husband disappeared.”
Dominic turned sharply.
I felt suddenly exposed.
“My personal life has nothing to do with Leo.”
Marco smiled.
“Maybe.”
Dominic stepped between us.
“Leave.”
Marco’s smile faded.
“You called me here.”
“And now I’m telling you to leave.”
“Fine.”
Marco headed for the door.
Then Dominic said, “One more thing.”
Marco stopped.
“Stay away from Leo until I say otherwise.”
Marco turned.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It isn’t a request.”
“You think I hurt him?”
“I think you frightened him.”
“Dominic.”
“Go.”
Marco’s jaw worked.
He left.
The silence after him felt heavier than his presence.
I moved toward the door.
“Claire.”
Again.
My name.
I stopped.
Dominic stood by the window.
“Why did your husband disappear?”
“That really isn’t your concern.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“But Marco made it one.”
“I don’t know why he disappeared.”
“Police?”
“Nothing.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“Before Lily was born?”
“Yes.”
Dominic’s gaze shifted.
“You were pregnant?”
“Seven months.”
I hated this conversation.
I hated the pity people usually gave me after hearing it.
Dominic gave me none.
That was somehow easier.
“He walked out?”
“I came home and his clothes were gone. His phone was disconnected. His bank account had been emptied.”
“What was his name?”
“Evan Bennett.”
Dominic froze.
It was slight.
But unmistakable.
“What?”
I stared at him.
“You know that name.”
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“I’ve heard it.”
“Where?”
Dominic walked toward his desk.
“Claire, take Lily home for the evening.”
I did not move.
“Where did you hear my husband’s name?”
“I’ll look into it.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
His eyes met mine.
I suddenly understood why people feared him.
Not because he shouted.
Because he could close every door in his face without moving.
“Take your daughter home.”
I grabbed my bag from the staff room and went upstairs.
Leo was sitting with Lily beneath a blanket fort.
For a moment I hated the idea of separating them.
But we needed to leave.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
Lily looked at Leo.
“Tomorrow?”
I hesitated.
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
Leo gave her the smallest smile.
In the car, Lily fell asleep before we reached the end of Dominic’s street.
I drove home with one name pounding through my mind.
Evan.
Why had Dominic recognized it?
I barely slept.
At 11:42 p.m., someone knocked on my apartment door.
Three slow knocks.
I looked through the peephole.
Nobody.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Dominic’s mansion.
Taken tonight.
Then another photograph.
Lily and me leaving through the side entrance.
The final message contained only six words.
YOUR HUSBAND DIDN’T LEAVE YOU.
I stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
HE WORKED FOR SOFIA MORETTI.
Then someone knocked again.
May you like
This time from inside my apartment building.
And the doorknob slowly began to turn...
