Chapter 8 - The Room With No Child
Vincent broke every speed limit returning home.
Marco stayed behind with Giovanni.
Rose came with Vincent despite the bullet wound still bandaged under her coat.
Neither spoke.
At the estate, Elena stood in the second-floor hall.
Blood on her sleeve.
"Where's Lily?"
"I don't know."
Vincent grabbed her shoulders.
"What happened?"
"Thomas came through the staff stairs. I told Lily to hide."
"Where?"
"I didn't tell her where. We practiced."
"You practiced?"
Elena nodded rapidly.
"After the kidnapping. If I said 'rabbit,' she knew to run and hide somewhere only she chose."
Vincent looked toward the bedroom.
Stuffed rabbit lay on the floor.
"Thomas?"
"Marco's guard shot him."
"Dead?"
"No. Gone."
Vincent swore.
They searched.
Every closet.
Attic.
Basement.
Kitchen.
No Lily.
Then Vincent remembered the chapel.
The hidden ledger compartment.
He ran.
Behind the altar, the panel stood slightly open.
"Lily?"
A tiny sound.
He opened it.
Lily curled inside the cavity, knees pulled to her chest.
Alive.
Vincent nearly collapsed.
She looked up.
"Did I hide good?"
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
"Very good."
She reached for him.
Vincent lifted her.
Elena arrived sobbing.
For several minutes nobody cared about archives, dead fathers, hidden grandfathers, or criminal empires.
They simply held a child who was safe.
Then Lily whispered:
"The bad man gave me this."
She opened her hand.
A small key.
Vincent stared.
"Thomas?"
She nodded.
"He said you would know."
Vincent did not.
Rose arrived and saw it.
She did.
"That's Dad's safe-deposit key."
"Where?"
"Union Federal."
Vincent pocketed it.
"Tomorrow."
Rose shook her head.
"Tonight."
"Why?"
"Because Thomas had no reason to give it to Lily unless he wanted you to find something before Giovanni could stop you."
Vincent studied her.
"You're saying Dad helped her?"
"I'm saying he could have taken Lily."
That was true.
"He didn't."
The bank manager owed Vincent favors.
At 2 a.m., they entered the vault.
Box 417.
Inside:
A letter.
A flash drive.
And a photograph.
Thomas, Victoria, Carlo, Rose, and a much younger Rebecca Shaw.
Together.
Dated fourteen years earlier.
Vincent stared.
"They all knew each other."
Rose shook her head.
"I've never met Rebecca before recently."
"Apparently you did."
She looked genuinely confused.
Vincent opened the letter.
SON—
IF YOU'RE READING THIS, MY FATHER HAS WON MORE THAN I EXPECTED.
I DID TERRIBLE THINGS FOR HIM.
I WILL NOT ASK FOR FORGIVENESS.
BUT ONE THING YOU MUST KNOW:
ROSE'S DISAPPEARANCE WAS NOT MY ORDER.
VICTORIA'S DISAPPEARANCE WAS NOT MY ORDER.
ELENA'S HUSBAND WAS NOT MY ORDER.
FIND THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH.
SHE KNOWS WHO GAVE THEM.
Vincent looked at Rebecca.
Rose whispered, "She looks different."
"What?"
"The woman in the picture. Look closely."
Vincent did.
Same hair color.
Similar features.
But younger Rebecca should have been twenty-five.
This woman looked nearly forty.
"Who is she?"
Rose turned the photograph over.
Two names were written.
REBECCA SHAW
MARGARET VALE
Vincent looked at Rose.
"Who is Margaret Vale?"
Rose's face drained.
"My mother."
Vincent stared.
"No. Our mother's Victoria."
Rose shook her head slowly.
"That's what I was told."
The vault suddenly felt very small.
Vincent reopened Thomas's letter.
One final sentence sat at the bottom.
ASK VICTORIA WHY ROSE WAS BORN SIX MONTHS BEFORE SHE MET THOMAS.
Rose sat down.
Neither spoke.
Their family tree had become another lie.
The flash drive contained one file.
Audio.
A woman's voice.
Margaret.
"If Rose is hearing this, then Victoria finally told you."
Rose gripped the table.
"You are my daughter."
The recording continued.
"And Giovanni Moretti is your father."
Vincent looked at Rose.
That made Giovanni not merely their grandfather.
Rose's biological father.
Which meant—
Vincent stood abruptly.
Giovanni had hunted his own daughter.
Thomas had raised his half-sister as his child.
The sickness ran deeper than power.
Margaret's recording continued.
"Rebecca is not my real name. I used it after I returned."
Vincent stared at the photograph.
Rebecca Shaw.
Margaret Vale.
Same woman?
Impossible.
Rebecca looked forty-two now.
Margaret would be in her sixties.
Unless Rebecca was—
A daughter?
The audio continued:
"If you meet the woman calling herself Rebecca Shaw, do not trust her. She is my younger sister, Claire."
Vincent closed his eyes.
Another identity.
Another lie.
Then:
"Claire believes the archive belongs to her because Giovanni promised her control if she helped him recover Rose."
Rose whispered, "Rebecca is Claire."
Vincent nodded.
His attorney.
His trusted attorney.
Had been Giovanni's instrument.
His phone rang.
Rebecca.
Vincent answered.
"You found the box," she said.
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere safe."
"For now."
She laughed.
"You sound like Giovanni."
"That's not a compliment."
"No."
Vincent looked toward Rose.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing anymore."
"Then why call?"
"Because you've misunderstood the ending."
"What ending?"
"Giovanni was never trying to open the archive."
Vincent frowned.
"Then what?"
"He was trying to make Rose gather every copy in one place."
Rose's eyes widened.
Vincent understood.
R-7.
Pier Nine.
The estate.
Every move had pushed Rose into consolidating files.
"Where is it now?"
Vincent looked at Rose.
She was pale.
"Rose."
She whispered, "The primary archive copied itself to the estate server when I connected at R-7."
Vincent closed his eyes.
Rebecca continued.
"And Giovanni knows."
"Why tell me?"
"Because Giovanni doesn't plan to erase it."
"What does he plan?"
Rebecca's voice softened.
"He's going to release everything."
Vincent stared.
Names.
Crimes.
Judges.
Officials.
Mob families.
If dumped publicly without context, dozens of people would panic.
Kill witnesses.
Destroy evidence.
Run.
"And one file," Rebecca said, "contains proof that Elena Carter murdered her husband."
Elena went white.
"That's a lie," she whispered.
Vincent looked at her.
Rebecca laughed through the phone.
"Is it?"
Elena shook her head.
"No."
Vincent asked, "What happened?"
Elena began crying.
"My husband didn't die in a robbery."
Vincent waited.
May you like
She whispered:
"I was there."
