Chapter 3 - The Girl Nobody Saw.
I did not sleep that night.
Not really.
I closed my eyes in the guest room, but every time the house creaked, I imagined the man from the park standing outside the door.
Every time headlights moved across the ceiling, I saw my mother's face in the photograph.
Vincent had promised answers.
Then he had disappeared into his office with Julian for six hours.
By midnight, I was done waiting.
I found him in the library.
The room smelled like old paper and wood smoke.
Vincent stood beside the fireplace with a glass of water in his hand.
Not whiskey.
Not anything dramatic.
Water.
That bothered me for some reason.
"You said she worked for you."
He turned.
"You should be sleeping."
"And you should stop avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you."
"You hid in a room with a security guy for half the day."
"That is called working."
"Then work faster."
A different man might have thrown me out.
Vincent only put the glass down.
"Your mother was an accountant for the Moretti Foundation."
"The charity?"
"Yes."
I had seen the name on buildings.
Scholarship programs.
Housing projects.
A children's hospital wing.
"How long?"
"Almost four years."
"Why didn't I know?"
"She used a different name professionally."
"What name?"
"Elena Mercer."
I stared at him.
"Mercer was my grandmother's name."
"I know that now."
"Did you know then?"
"No."
"Did your wife know?"
He looked toward the fire.
"Apparently better than I did."
Anger rose through me.
"Stop talking like this is some business meeting."
His gaze returned to mine.
"How would you like me to talk?"
"Like you're telling a kid why her dead mother had a secret life."
The words came out harder than I intended.
Vincent flinched.
Barely.
But I saw it.
He pulled a chair away from the desk.
"Sit down."
"There you go again."
"Please."
That was new.
I sat.
He remained standing for another moment, then took the chair across from me.
"Your mother was very good at her job."
"Was she involved in your other businesses?"
He understood exactly what I meant.
The rumors.
The whispers.
The name Moretti carried in neighborhoods where police sirens were common and questions were not.
"No."
His answer was immediate.
"Elena worked only with the foundation and legitimate company accounts."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I expect you to believe whatever the evidence shows."
"That's convenient."
"It's also the truth."
I folded my arms.
"What did she do?"
"She found missing money."
"Stolen?"
"Diverted."
"That's a fancy word for stolen."
"Yes."
"By who?"
"We never proved it."
"Did she tell your wife?"
Vincent nodded slowly.
"Isabella oversaw the foundation."
Ethan's mother finally had a name.
Isabella.
"They became close."
"How close?"
"Close enough that my wife hid things from me to protect your mother."
I thought about the photograph.
VINCENT MUST NEVER FIND LILY.
"Protect her from you?"
The question landed between us.
Vincent did not look offended.
That made it worse.
"Possibly."
"Why?"
"Because seven years ago, I was not the man sitting in front of you now."
I almost laughed.
"People still call you the most feared man in New York."
"People enjoy old stories."
"Are they wrong?"
His eyes hardened.
"Some are."
"And the others?"
"The others are not stories I tell children."
I stood so quickly the chair scraped against the floor.
"Then maybe I shouldn't be here."
Vincent stood too.
"I agree."
That stopped me.
"What?"
"You should be in school."
His voice sharpened.
"You should be complaining about homework and bad cafeteria food."
He pointed toward the dark window.
"You should not know how to sleep under a loading dock without being seen."
My throat tightened.
"Don't pretend you know me."
"I don't."
"Then stop trying to fix me because you feel guilty about Ethan."
His face changed.
"This is not guilt."
"Then what is it?"
Before he could answer, the library door opened.
Ethan stood there on crutches.
Rosa hovered behind him looking furious.
"He escaped his room," she said.
"I walked," Ethan protested.
"You were instructed to rest."
"Resting is boring."
Vincent closed his eyes briefly.
"Ethan."
"I heard Lily yelling."
"I wasn't yelling."
"You were doing the angry whisper thing."
I stared at him.
"What angry whisper thing?"
He demonstrated badly.
"Then stop trying to fix me."
Rosa covered her mouth.
Vincent looked toward the ceiling.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Ethan moved closer on his crutches.
"Are you leaving?"
"I don't know."
His face fell.
"Because Dad is annoying?"
"Partly."
"That's fair."
Vincent stared at his son.
"I am standing right here."
"I know."
Ethan looked at me.
"You can stay until we figure out the picture."
"How do you know about the picture?"
He froze.
Rosa froze.
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
"Ethan."
"I heard people talking."
"Who?"
Ethan looked uncomfortable.
"Uncle Dominic."
The air changed.
Vincent's voice became very quiet.
"Dominic is here?"
"He was downstairs."
Julian appeared in the doorway behind Rosa.
"Not anymore."
Vincent turned.
"You let him in?"
"He arrived with Sofia."
"Where is he now?"
"Left five minutes ago."
Vincent looked at Ethan.
"What exactly did you hear?"
Ethan shifted on the crutches.
"He said the girl should never have been brought here."
My skin went cold.
"Did he say my name?"
Ethan nodded.
"He said Lily Hart."
Julian's expression tightened.
Vincent did not move.
"Anything else?"
"He told Aunt Sofia that if you learned who Lily really was, everything would start again."
I stared at Vincent.
"Who am I?"
He looked at Julian.
"Lock the house down."
Julian nodded.
"Already doing it."
"Nobody leaves without clearance."
"Understood."
I stepped between them.
"Stop."
Vincent looked at me.
"I am not one of your employees."
"I know."
"Then answer me."
"I don't know what Dominic meant."
"You knew my mother's middle name."
"Because I found an old personnel file this afternoon."
"You knew she worked here."
"After you told me her name."
"And Dominic knew me before tonight."
Vincent's expression darkened.
"Apparently."
I looked toward Ethan.
He suddenly seemed pale.
"What's wrong?"
He stared past me toward the hallway.
"My phone."
"What about it?"
"It was on my nightstand."
Rosa frowned.
"I saw it there ten minutes ago."
Ethan shook his head.
"It's gone."
Julian moved immediately.
"Nobody touch anything."
We followed him upstairs.
Ethan's room was warm, bright, and full of books.
The window stood open.
Snow blew across the carpet.
Rosa gasped.
"I closed that."
Vincent crossed the room and looked outside.
There was no balcony.
Only a narrow decorative ledge far above the ground.
Julian inspected the window lock.
"Forced?" Vincent asked.
"No."
"Then somebody opened it from inside."
Ethan gripped his crutches.
"Why would they take my phone?"
Nobody answered.
I moved toward the nightstand.
Something small lay beneath it.
A piece of white paper.
I crouched and picked it up.
There were only three words written across it.
ASK LILY'S MOTHER.
I stared at the message until the letters blurred.
"She's dead," I whispered.
Then a sound came from Ethan's closet.
A phone vibrating.
Julian opened the door.
Ethan's phone lay on top of a stack of sweaters.
The screen was lit.
A new message had arrived from an unknown number.
Vincent read it first.
His face went rigid.
"What does it say?" I asked.
May you like
He looked at me.
"It says your mother didn't die by accident."
