Chapter 3 - Ninety-Nine Point Nine Percent
Dominic's face told me what the paper said.
I looked down anyway.
Probability of paternity: 99.99%.
Eight years of uncertainty collapsed into one line of black print.
Adrian was Chloe's father.
Chloe stepped farther into the room.
"Mom?"
I folded the paper.
Too late.
Adrian had seen enough.
His eyes closed.
Not from weakness.
From impact.
"Eight years," he whispered.
The accusation in his voice made me snap.
"Don't."
His eyes opened.
"Don't what?"
"Don't look at me like I kept her from you."
"You did."
"I thought you abandoned us."
"I didn't know."
"And whose fault was that?"
His gaze moved to Dominic.
Dominic didn't defend himself.
Chloe's face tightened.
"Why are you fighting?"
I immediately softened.
"We're not fighting."
"You sound like fighting."
Adrian looked at her.
Something shifted in him.
The man newspapers called ruthless disappeared for a second.
What remained was a frightened human being who had just learned he had a daughter.
"Hi," he said.
Chloe looked at his tattoos.
"Hi."
"My name is Adrian."
"I know."
He blinked.
"You do?"
"Everyone keeps saying it."
Fair enough.
He almost smiled.
It vanished when pain crossed his face.
The nurse stepped forward.
"Everyone needs to leave."
Adrian ignored her.
His gaze remained on Chloe.
"How old are you?"
"Eight."
"When's your birthday?"
"February third."
He inhaled.
I watched him calculate backward.
His eyes found mine.
I nodded once.
Yes.
He understood.
Every second of it.
The nurse became firmer.
"Now."
I took Chloe's hand.
She resisted.
"Mom, why was that paper about fathers?"
I closed my eyes.
Of course she had read it.
Chloe had been reading above grade level since kindergarten.
There was no hiding behind big words.
"We'll talk outside."
She looked at Adrian.
Then at me.
"Is he my dad?"
Silence filled the room.
No one deserved to answer that question except me.
So I crouched in front of her.
"Biologically, yes."
Her eyes widened.
"Like real dad?"
"He is your biological father."
"Why didn't I know?"
My throat tightened.
"Because I didn't know he was here."
"Did he know me?"
Adrian answered.
"No."
Chloe looked at him.
His voice broke.
"If I had known, I would've wanted to."
I didn't know whether that was true.
But I believed he believed it.
That mattered.
For now.
Outside the room, Chloe became silent.
She climbed into the chair and pulled her knees to her chest.
"Are you mad?"
I sat beside her.
"No."
"At me?"
"Never."
"At him?"
I looked through the glass.
Adrian was speaking to Dominic.
His expression was terrifying.
"Maybe."
"Is he bad?"
The question returned.
This time I couldn't say I didn't know.
"He has done things I don't agree with."
"Like crimes?"
My head snapped toward her.
"Where did you hear that?"
"The nurse's TV."
Wonderful.
"People on TV said he was a mafia boss."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Chloe—"
"What's mafia?"
I searched for an answer appropriate for an eight-year-old.
"A group of people who sometimes use fear and break laws to get what they want."
She considered that.
"So... bad."
"Some choices are bad."
"Did he hurt people?"
I couldn't lie.
"I don't know everything he's done."
She looked through the glass again.
"Does he know he's bad?"
That question stayed with me.
Ten minutes later, Dominic came out.
He looked older again.
"Adrian wants to speak with you."
"I bet."
"Alone."
"No."
"Mara."
"I'm not leaving Chloe with strangers."
"I'll stay with her."
I laughed once.
"You are the last person I trust."
He accepted that without argument.
The nurse who had been with Chloe offered to remain nearby.
I knelt.
"I'll be right through that window."
Chloe nodded.
Then grabbed my wrist.
"Don't yell."
"I won't."
"You yell when you're scared."
I stared at her.
She knew me too well.
"I'll try."
Inside the room, Adrian looked exhausted.
But the first thing he said was, "I want Dominic gone."
Dominic heard through the partially open door.
He left without protest.
I closed it.
Adrian looked at me.
"Tell me everything."
"No."
His brow furrowed.
"You don't get to order me around."
"I'm not—"
"You are. That's your natural voice now."
He almost looked ashamed.
"Sorry."
That surprised me.
I pulled a chair closer.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
"Ask smaller questions."
He looked toward Chloe.
"Was she healthy?"
"Yes."
"Birth?"
"Long. Awful. She was seven pounds, two ounces."
"Did you have help?"
"My mother came for three weeks."
"After that?"
"Me."
His jaw tightened.
"I should've been there."
"You weren't."
"I know."
"Don't romanticize what you missed. It was hard."
His eyes returned to mine.
"I don't want to romanticize it. I want to know it."
That disarmed me.
So I told him.
First tooth.
First word.
First steps.
The time Chloe shoved a pea into her nose at age three.
The preschool concert where she sang the entire wrong verse louder than everyone else.
The fractured wrist at six.
Her obsession with horses.
Her fear of thunderstorms.
Her talent for drawing.
Her habit of leaving one bite of every sandwich uneaten "for later" and never eating it later.
Adrian listened like each detail was oxygen.
At some point, tears appeared in his eyes.
He turned his face away.
I pretended not to notice.
Finally he whispered, "I would've loved her."
The past tense hurt.
"You're not dead yet."
He looked at me.
"Apparently Chicago keeps trying."
"That's not funny."
"No."
I leaned back.
"Who shot you?"
His expression changed.
"Someone who knew my route."
"Your family?"
"Probably."
"Dominic?"
"No."
"You trust him after what he did?"
"I didn't say I trusted him."
"Then who?"
"My cousin, Victor. Two captains. Maybe more."
"What does this have to do with us?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie."
His gaze sharpened.
"I am trying to keep it that way."
"That's what men say right before they destroy women's lives for their own protection."
He flinched.
Good.
"I have spent three years trying to dismantle parts of the organization my father built."
I stared.
"You're still the boss."
"Names don't disappear because you want them to."
"That sounds convenient."
"It isn't."
He nodded toward the bedside drawer.
"My phone."
I hesitated.
"Get it."
I opened the drawer.
No phone.
Only a small metal key on a chain.
Adrian frowned.
"That's not mine."
I lifted it.
A number was engraved on one side.
On the other:
C.U.
"What is it?"
His face changed.
"I don't know."
"You're lying again."
"No."
He stared at the key.
Then whispered, "Chicago Union Station."
"Locker?"
"Maybe."
"Why would someone put it here?"
Adrian's eyes went to the door.
"Because someone wanted me to find it if I survived."
"Or someone wanted you dead before you could."
A monitor beeped faster.
The nurse entered.
"That's enough."
I slipped the key into my pocket without thinking.
Adrian saw.
"Don't."
"Too late."
"Mara, listen to me. Take Chloe and leave Chicago."
"No."
His face hardened.
"This is not pride."
"Neither is mine."
"People tried to kill me six hours ago."
"And someone stole eight years from my daughter."
"They'll steal more if you stay."
That landed.
I looked through the glass.
Chloe was coloring another horse.
Purple again.
"Then tell me who 'they' are."
Adrian closed his eyes.
"I don't know yet."
A phone rang outside.
Dominic answered it.
His face changed instantly.
He looked through the window at Adrian.
Then at me.
He entered without knocking.
"We have a problem."
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"The donor."
My stomach dropped.
"What about the donor?" I asked.
Dominic looked at me.
"The car never reached the hospital."
Adrian tried to sit up.
Pain forced him back.
Dominic continued.
"The driver was found unconscious."
The room went cold.
"Where's the blood?" I asked.
Dominic didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Someone wasn't just trying to kill Adrian.
They were making sure the hospital couldn't save him.
Then Chloe appeared in the doorway.
She held up her purple horse picture.
"Mom, somebody wrote on my drawing."
My heart stopped.
I took it from her.
May you like
Three words had been added beneath the horse.
WE KNOW WHO.
