Chapter 3 - The Empty Bed
“Sofia!”
Emma ran to the balcony.
Nothing.
Ten stories below, landscaped gardens spread around the estate.
No child.
No attacker.
No movement.
Marco stormed in behind her.
“Lock down the property!”
Lorenzo arrived seconds later.
He saw the empty bed.
His face became something Emma would never forget.
Not anger.
Not grief.
Pure animal fear.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were supposed to be with her.”
Emma flinched.
“I left for three minutes.”
“Three minutes?”
“Lorenzo.”
It was the first time she used his first name.
He stopped.
Emma pointed toward the bed.
“The IV was cut cleanly. Whoever took her knew exactly when I left.”
His eyes moved toward the camera.
Someone had been watching.
Marco spoke into his radio.
“Every gate sealed. Search vehicles, laundry rooms, service tunnels, rooftops.”
Lorenzo grabbed the surveillance console remote.
“Playback.”
The screen displayed the room.
7:31 a.m.
Sofia sleeping.
7:32.
Emma leaving.
7:33.
The feed flickered.
Then froze.
At 7:36, the picture resumed.
Sofia was gone.
Lorenzo stared.
“Who can disable the system?”
Marco answered.
“Me. You. And—”
He stopped.
“And who?”
Marco looked toward Dr. Romano.
Romano’s face tightened.
“Medical security administrator.”
Lorenzo turned.
“You.”
Romano stepped back.
“I never touched it.”
Marco drew a gun.
Emma moved between them.
“Stop.”
Lorenzo’s voice was deadly.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“If Romano took Sofia, shooting him won’t bring her back. If he didn’t, you’re wasting time.”
Romano swallowed.
“I know where they might have gone.”
Everyone froze.
Lorenzo grabbed his collar.
“You have five seconds.”
“There’s an old service elevator behind the medical storage wall. Isabella had it installed years ago. It connects to the lower garage.”
Marco cursed.
He ran.
Lorenzo dragged Romano with him.
Emma followed.
Behind a shelving unit in the storage room, Marco found a disguised panel.
The elevator door opened.
Inside lay Sofia’s stuffed rabbit.
Emma picked it up.
A small red stain marked one ear.
Blood.
Lorenzo went pale.
“Sofia.”
Emma examined it.
“Not much blood.”
The elevator descended.
Lower garage.
Doors opened.
Security teams flooded the area.
A black SUV sat idling near the exit.
Marco raised his weapon.
“Turn it off!”
No response.
Lorenzo approached.
Emma grabbed his sleeve.
“Don’t.”
He ignored her.
Marco opened the rear door.
Empty.
Front seats empty too.
The engine had been remotely started.
On the back seat lay an envelope.
LORENZO.
He opened it.
Inside was one photograph.
Sofia.
Taken minutes earlier.
She was awake.
Terrified.
But alive.
On the back were six words.
THE SONG OPENS WHAT IS YOURS.
Lorenzo looked at Romano.
“What does that mean?”
Romano closed his eyes.
“I tried to tell you.”
“Tell me now.”
Romano lowered his voice.
“Lucia Bellandi created a private account network decades ago.”
Emma frowned.
“Money?”
“Evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“Everything.”
Lorenzo stared.
Romano continued.
“Politicians. judges. businessmen. criminal organizations. Your father. Isabella’s father. Everyone who used the Bellandi family’s financial network.”
Lorenzo’s expression darkened.
“My wife knew?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She inherited the archive when Lucia died.”
Emma remembered the note.
Keep the song safe.
“The lullaby is a key.”
Romano nodded.
“Part of one.”
Lorenzo shoved him against the SUV.
“And you know this because?”
“I was Lucia’s physician. Later Isabella’s.”
“You were Isabella’s doctor before Sofia was born?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because Isabella made me swear.”
Lorenzo’s fist tightened.
Emma stepped closer.
“What does the song unlock?”
Romano looked at her.
“A sequence.”
“What sequence?”
“The melody corresponds to numbers. Notes become digits. But the melody alone isn’t enough.”
“What else?”
“Words.”
Emma felt cold.
The lyrics.
Her mother’s lyrics.
Lorenzo stared at her.
“Your mother knew the song.”
Emma suddenly understood why her mother’s connection mattered.
Helen had not accidentally learned Isabella’s lullaby.
She had been entrusted with it.
Romano looked at Emma.
“Your mother was Lucia’s closest friend.”
Emma shook her head.
“No.”
“She was.”
“She never mentioned her.”
“She was protecting you.”
“From what?”
Romano’s eyes moved toward Lorenzo.
“From this family.”
Silence.
Lorenzo stepped forward.
“What did my family do?”
Romano looked frightened.
Not of Lorenzo.
Of the answer.
“Twenty-nine years ago, your father ordered Lucia Bellandi killed.”
Lorenzo stopped.
“My father loved Lucia.”
“No. Your father feared her.”
“My father died fifteen years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And Isabella married me knowing that?”
“Yes.”
Lorenzo seemed physically unsteady.
Emma had never seen a powerful man collapse without moving.
He did it in silence.
Everything he believed about his marriage shifted beneath him.
“Why?”
Romano answered softly.
“Because Isabella believed you weren’t your father.”
Lorenzo looked away.
Marco approached.
“We found tire tracks from a second vehicle. East service exit.”
“Cameras?”
“Disabled.”
“License?”
“Partial plate.”
“Find it.”
Marco left.
Emma turned to Romano.
“Who poisoned Sofia?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who kidnapped her?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know more than you’re saying.”
Romano looked toward the guards.
Then leaned closer.
“Isabella didn’t die in an accident.”
Lorenzo heard him.
His head snapped around.
“What?”
Romano swallowed.
“She called me thirty minutes before she died.”
Lorenzo grabbed him.
“What did she say?”
Romano’s eyes filled with fear.
“She said someone had discovered she was trying to open Lucia’s archive.”
“Who?”
“She never said.”
“Then why keep this from me?”
“Because the next morning, I received photographs of my wife and grandchildren.”
Lorenzo released him slowly.
Romano whispered.
“They told me if I ever repeated Isabella’s final call, my family would disappear.”
Emma stared at him.
“And Sofia?”
“I think they kept her sick because they need something only she knows.”
Lorenzo’s voice cracked.
“She was four when Isabella died.”
“Children remember songs.”
Emma understood.
Sofia had been silent.
Not because she could not speak.
Because she was terrified of speaking.
The lullaby.
Someone had been waiting for her to reveal it.
The poison kept her weak.
The cameras watched her.
But Lorenzo’s cameras were not the only ones.
Emma looked toward the ceiling.
“Your system was compromised.”
Marco returned.
“We confirmed remote intrusion from an outside server.”
Lorenzo looked at Emma.
For the first time, the mafia boss did not look dangerous.
He looked helpless.
“Find my daughter.”
Emma’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone went silent.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A child breathed on the other end.
Emma’s heart stopped.
“Sofia?”
A whisper.
“Emma?”
Lorenzo stepped toward her.
Emma raised one hand.
“Sweetheart, where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
A man’s voice sounded faintly in the background.
Sofia whimpered.
“Listen to me,” Emma said. “You’re going to be okay.”
“They want the song.”
Emma looked at Lorenzo.
“Don’t sing it.”
“They said they’ll hurt Daddy.”
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
Emma’s voice stayed calm.
“Daddy is safe.”
Another voice came through the phone.
Male.
Distorted.
“Sing the complete lullaby, Ms. Foster.”
Emma’s blood ran cold.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You sang half of it last night.”
Silence.
“We need the final verse.”
Emma looked at Romano.
He shook his head urgently.
The voice continued.
“Your mother taught you all of it.”
Emma remembered childhood.
Her mother always stopped at the same place.
Morning will find you, safe in my arms.
But there had been another verse.
A verse Helen stopped singing when Emma turned twelve.
She had almost forgotten.
The caller spoke.
“You have one hour.”
“What happens after an hour?”
A pause.
Then Sofia screamed.
The line went dead.
Lorenzo smashed his fist into the SUV window.
Glass shattered.
Emma jumped.
He stared at the blood running across his knuckles.
“I’ll give them anything.”
Romano shook his head.
“You can’t.”
“That’s my daughter.”
“The archive contains enough information to destroy hundreds of people.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will when those people realize Sofia is the key.”
Emma looked at the photograph again.
THE SONG OPENS WHAT IS YOURS.
“What if the song isn’t enough?”
Romano nodded.
“It isn’t.”
“What else?”
He hesitated.
Then looked directly at Emma.
“You.”
Emma froze.
“Me?”
“Lucia split the key.”
Lorenzo stared at Romano.
“Between Isabella and Helen.”
Romano nodded.
“Between their daughters.”
Emma’s stomach dropped.
“Isabella and me?”
“No.”
Romano looked at Sofia’s photograph.
“Between Sofia and you.”
Emma took a step back.
“That’s impossible.”
Romano pulled a folded document from inside his jacket.
He had carried it for years.
He handed it to Emma.
A birth certificate amendment.
Her name.
Emma Helen Foster.
Biological mother:
Lucia Bellandi.
Emma stared at the page.
“That’s not possible.”
Lorenzo read over her shoulder.
Romano whispered:
“Helen Foster wasn’t your mother.”
Emma looked up.
“She was protecting you.”
The garage doors suddenly opened.
A black sedan rolled slowly inside.
No guards had authorized it.
Marco raised his weapon.
The rear door opened.
A woman stepped out.
May you like
She looked at Emma and smiled.
“Hello, little sister.”
