Chapter 5 - The Red Stain
Clara did not answer.
Julian stood outside the bedroom.
Sophia trembled against her chest.
The doorknob turned once.
Slowly.
“Clara,” Julian said.
No response.
“You don’t belong in this.”
Clara looked around.
Window.
Second floor.
Too high to jump safely.
Closet.
Bathroom.
No second exit.
She picked up a heavy brass lamp.
Julian continued.
“You think Dante is protecting you?”
Clara whispered into Sophia’s hair.
“Stay behind me.”
Sophia grabbed her shirt.
“No.”
The word was tiny.
Clara looked down.
“Trust me.”
Sophia’s eyes filled.
Then a sound came from outside.
A struggle.
A thud.
Julian cursed.
Rafael shouted.
Clara heard another impact.
Then two gunshots.
Sophia screamed.
Clara dragged her into the bathroom and locked that door too.
Silence.
A minute passed.
Then someone knocked.
“Clara?”
Rafael.
She did not move.
“It’s me.”
“How do I know?”
A pause.
Then Rafael said, “The first time Sophia saw me tonight, she called me Mommy’s friend.”
Clara opened the door.
Rafael leaned against the hallway wall.
Blood soaked one sleeve.
Not fatal.
But bad.
“Where’s Julian?”
“Gone.”
“What happened?”
“He came through the back.”
“And the shots?”
“I fired into the ceiling.”
Clara stared.
“Why?”
“He had Sophia’s room door open.”
Her stomach turned.
Rafael lifted a small tracking device.
“He dropped this.”
They called Dante.
No answer.
Grayson.
No answer.
Marco finally picked up.
His voice was strained.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Dante’s inside St. Catherine.”
“And?”
“Somebody locked down the basement.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“Julian.”
“We don’t know.”
“He was just here.”
Silence.
Marco cursed.
“He’s moving faster than us.”
Clara looked at Sophia.
“No. He’s trying to split us.”
That was the first moment anyone in Dante’s world began listening to Clara Hale as something other than the waitress Sophia trusted.
They moved.
Not to the estate.
Not to Belladonna.
Rafael drove them to an old church shelter where he had hidden years earlier.
Clara cleaned his arm.
The bullet had grazed him.
Sophia sat beside the altar.
She stared at the stained-glass windows.
At 3:17 a.m., Clara’s phone rang.
Dante.
She answered immediately.
“Sophia?”
“Safe.”
Dante exhaled.
“Julian came for her.”
Silence.
Then, “Is he alive?”
“He escaped.”
Dante’s voice changed.
“Clara.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
She swallowed.
“What did you find?”
Another pause.
“We found Dr. Rebecca Pierce.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She says her father treated Elena the night she died.”
Clara sat down.
“For what?”
Dante’s answer came slowly.
“A gunshot wound.”
Everything stopped.
The official report said Elena had died at the warehouse.
Rebecca Pierce said Elena arrived at St. Catherine alive.
Dr. Samuel Pierce treated her secretly.
The bullet had passed through her shoulder.
Not fatal.
Elena was conscious.
Talking.
Terrified.
“She could have survived,” Dante said.
Clara closed her eyes.
“What happened?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Rebecca had been a medical resident at the time.
Her father ordered her out of the unit.
An hour later, Elena was gone.
The next morning her body was found in an industrial lot.
Different injuries.
Different clothes.
Someone had moved her.
“Dante.”
“Yes?”
“Sophia remembered something.”
She told him Julian’s sentence.
When Daddy wakes, it’ll be too late.
Dante went silent.
Then he said, “I was asleep that night.”
Clara frowned.
“What?”
“I had dinner at home. Julian brought a bottle of whiskey. I remember one drink.”
His voice hardened.
“Then nothing until noon the next day.”
“Drugged?”
“That’s what Rebecca thinks.”
Clara understood.
Julian had not simply hidden Elena’s death.
He had neutralized Dante first.
The betrayal went deeper than murder.
It had been planned inside his own home.
Dante said, “Stay with Sophia. Marco is coming.”
The call ended.
At St. Catherine, Rebecca Pierce led Dante and Grayson through the old basement unit.
Most rooms were empty.
One remained locked.
Elena’s key card opened it.
Inside was a small office.
A desk.
A filing cabinet.
A camera hidden inside a smoke detector.
Rebecca stared.
“My father installed that.”
Grayson removed the memory unit.
The footage was ancient but intact.
They found the date.
11:58 p.m.
Elena entered.
Bleeding.
Dr. Pierce helped her onto a bed.
12:14.
Rebecca appeared.
Her father sent her away.
12:26.
Julian entered.
Dante stopped breathing.
12:29.
Commissioner Vale entered.
12:33.
Dr. Pierce argued with them.
12:38.
Vale struck him.
12:41.
Elena tried to run.
Julian stopped her.
Then the camera glitched.
Black screen.
When it returned, everyone was gone.
Except Dr. Pierce.
He sat on the floor.
Crying.
Then he crawled toward the camera.
He looked directly into it.
And mouthed something.
Grayson enhanced the image.
Four words.
SHE IS STILL ALIVE.
Dante stared.
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca covered her mouth.
“My father told me Elena died.”
“He lied.”
“Or someone made him lie.”
Grayson checked the next files.
Two days later, Dr. Pierce returned.
He placed an envelope inside the smoke detector compartment.
The envelope was still there.
Dante opened it.
A handwritten note.
ELENA WAS TAKEN TO HARBOR HOUSE.
Vale’s private rehabilitation property.
Closed for years.
Dante called Marco.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Clara called.
“Dante.”
He heard fear instantly.
“What?”
“Marco never arrived.”
He looked at Grayson.
“Where are you?”
“The church.”
“Leave.”
“Why?”
“Now.”
Outside the church, Rafael saw headlights.
Three black SUVs.
He stepped inside.
“Clara.”
She looked through the window.
The vehicles stopped.
Doors opened.
Men stepped out.
Sophia stood.
One of them was Marco.
Clara exhaled.
Then Rafael said, “Wait.”
Marco walked toward the church.
His hands were empty.
A red stain covered his right cuff.
The same mark Sophia had drawn through the chocolate heart.
Sophia saw it.
Her face turned white.
May you like
She whispered, “Not Marco.”
The church doors began to open.
