Chapter 5 - The House Without Cameras
Damian moved before Emma understood what had happened.
He pulled her behind a concrete column.
Mateo fired toward the stairwell.
The shooter vanished.
Paul Mercer lay near the elevator.
Blood spread beneath his shoulder.
Emma crawled toward him.
Damian caught her.
“He’s alive.”
“How do you know?”
“Because whoever fired wanted him to be.”
Mercer groaned.
Emma reached him.
“Who shot you?”
His eyes opened.
“Not... Damian.”
“I know.”
“Pike.”
Damian looked toward Mateo.
Mercer grabbed Emma’s wrist.
“Your father trusted the wrong Moretti.”
Emma leaned closer.
“What does that mean?”
Mercer coughed.
“Anthony wasn’t the only one.”
“Who?”
The fire alarm finally began screaming.
Mercer’s eyes rolled closed.
Paramedics arrived minutes later.
Pike was nowhere to be found.
By dawn, Mercer was in surgery under police guard—guards chosen by Damian rather than the department.
Emma found the irony disturbing.
She returned with Damian to his house.
This time she noticed something strange.
There were no cameras.
Not outside.
Not inside.
“For a man with enemies, your security is terrible.”
“It’s intentional.”
“Why?”
“My mother hated cameras.”
Emma stopped.
“You live in your mother’s house?”
“It was hers.”
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“Seventeen years ago.”
Emma stared.
“The same year my father died?”
“Yes.”
Another coincidence.
There were too many.
Damian led her into a locked room.
Inside were boxes.
His father’s files.
Emma spent the morning reading.
Anthony Moretti had documented everything.
Payoffs.
Businesses.
Politicians.
But one file was missing.
“Someone removed it,” Damian said.
“Who had access?”
“My father. Me. Mateo’s father.”
“And your mother?”
“Yes.”
Emma found a photograph.
Anthony Moretti stood beside Daniel Hayes.
Between them was Evelyn Sterling.
Behind Evelyn stood another woman.
Damian’s mother.
All four were smiling.
Emma looked at him.
“They knew each other.”
“Apparently.”
“You never saw this?”
“No.”
Emma flipped the photograph.
A date.
One year before Daniel died.
She searched another box.
Then another.
At the bottom of the third was a children’s hospital brochure.
Sterling Children’s Center.
Inside, someone had circled room 417.
Emma’s pulse quickened.
“Damian.”
They drove to the abandoned hospital wing that afternoon.
Room 417 had been sealed for renovations.
Mateo forced the lock.
Inside was an empty patient room.
Emma searched drawers.
Nothing.
Damian examined the wall.
“Here.”
A section of drywall sounded hollow.
Mateo opened it.
Inside was a metal case.
Emma stared at Damian.
“Your father liked hiding things.”
“So did yours.”
The case contained photographs.
Dozens.
Families.
Children.
Witnesses.
And a woman holding a baby.
Evelyn Sterling.
Emma recognized herself from childhood pictures.
“That’s me.”
Damian picked up another photograph.
His mother stood beside Evelyn.
On the back:
THE GIRLS MUST NEVER KNOW.
Emma frowned.
“Girls?”
Damian found another photograph.
Two babies.
One in Evelyn’s arms.
One in his mother’s.
Emma felt dizzy.
“Who is the other baby?”
Damian turned the picture over.
Only initials.
E.H.
And D.M.
Emma stared at him.
“D.M.”
“Damian Moretti.”
“You were here?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You’re four years older than me.”
“The date must be wrong.”
Emma checked.
It was.
Someone had altered the year.
Beneath the photographs lay a letter.
Anthony’s handwriting.
Damian opened it.
If Daniel is dead, then Victor knows.
Damian froze.
Emma looked at him.
“Who is Victor?”
“My uncle.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Ten years ago.”
Emma almost laughed.
“Does anyone in this story stay alive?”
Damian did not.
Because the next line read:
Do not believe Victor’s death unless you see the body yourself.
Damian lowered the letter.
“I never saw it.”
“Why?”
“He died overseas.”
Emma felt the pieces shifting again.
Anthony.
Daniel.
Evelyn.
Damian’s mother.
Four people connected by a secret project.
Then Daniel died.
Evelyn supposedly died.
Damian’s mother disappeared.
Anthony was murdered six years later.
One man benefited.
Victor Moretti.
A noise sounded in the hallway.
Mateo turned.
“Someone’s here.”
The lights went out.
Emma heard footsteps.
Slow.
Approaching.
Damian found her hand in the darkness.
“Stay behind me.”
The footsteps stopped outside room 417.
Then a woman’s voice came through the door.
“Damian?”
His grip tightened.
The woman spoke again.
“I’ve been trying to find you for seventeen years.”
May you like
Damian went completely still.
Because the voice belonged to the mother he had believed was dead.
