Chapter 3 - The Photograph Hidden in Emily's Mother's House
Emily's mother had been dead for five years.
The house in Naperville remained mostly untouched.
After Marcus's accusation, Emily drove there alone.
She entered the kitchen.
Opened the old cabinets.
Nothing.
Then she went upstairs.
Her mother's bedroom smelled like cedar.
Emily opened the closet.
At the back was an old metal box.
She had seen it before.
Her mother had always told her not to open it.
Now she did.
Inside was a photograph.
Two women stood beside a lake.
One was Clara.
Emily knew her from photographs.
The other was her mother.
Emily stared.
On the back was a handwritten date.
November 14.
The day Clara had died.
Emily turned the photograph over again.
There was another line.
We have to tell Dante the truth before the next move.
Emily's heart stopped.
She sat on the floor.
Her mother knew Clara.
And whatever happened nine years ago had involved her.
She searched the box.
Letters.
Bank statements.
A key.
A small silver pendant.
And a newspaper clipping about a car explosion.
The article named Clara Marino as the victim.
Emily suddenly noticed something.
A handwritten note beneath it.
The wrong woman was buried.
She dropped the paper.
Then her phone rang.
Dante.
“Where are you?”
“At my mother's house.”
“Why?”
“Because Marcus said something about me.”
Silence.
“What did he say?”
Emily hesitated.
“My mother knew Clara.”
Dante's voice became quiet.
“Send me the address.”
Ten minutes later, black SUVs filled the street.
Dante entered the house.
Emily handed him the photograph.
His face changed when he saw Clara.
“Where did you get this?”
“My mother's box.”
Dante looked at the second woman.
“Who is she?”
“My mother.”
“Did she know Clara?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
He stared at the photograph.
Then he noticed the date.
November 14.
His anniversary.
His wife's supposed death.
“This photograph was taken the day Clara died.”
Emily nodded.
Dante walked around the room.
He found the metal key.
“What does this open?”
“I don't know.”
Emily searched the box again.
There was an old address.
Lake Point.
An abandoned marina.
Dante looked at it.
“I know this place.”
“Of course you do.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“You're Dante Marino.”
“Yes.”
“Every dangerous place in Chicago eventually has your fingerprints on it.”
He almost smiled.
They drove to the marina.
The building was abandoned.
But the key opened the back door.
Inside was a small office.
Dust covered everything.
Then Emily found a safe.
The combination was written on the photograph.
November fourteen.
The safe opened.
Inside was a video cassette.
And a letter.
Dante took the letter.
The handwriting belonged to Clara.
He knew it immediately.
Dante,
If you are reading this, it means they failed to kill me.
His hands trembled.
He read on.
I was followed for months.
Someone inside your family has been selling information.
I found out who.
The next sentence was partially smeared.
But one name remained visible.
Marcus.
Dante stared.
“Marcus.”
Emily looked over his shoulder.
Then the video.
They found an old television.
The tape flickered.
Clara appeared on screen.
Alive.
Terrified.
Speaking directly to the camera.
“Dante, I don't know how long I have.”
She paused.
“I know you're going to blame yourself.”
Dante looked away.
Clara continued.
“Don't trust Marcus.”
Emily watched Dante's face.
He looked broken.
Clara swallowed.
“There is someone else.”
She looked behind her.
Someone was coming.
“Dante, listen to me.”
She whispered.
“The child.”
The video cut.
Emily frowned.
“What child?”
Dante stared at the blank screen.
“I don't know.”
A noise came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Dante pulled his gun.
“Stay behind me.”
Emily rolled her eyes.
“I know how guns work.”
“You don't know who is out there.”
“No.”
She grabbed a fire extinguisher.
“But I know how angry people are.”
Dante almost laughed.
Then the door burst open.
Two men entered.
Dante fired.
One dropped.
The other fled.
Emily chased him.
“Emily!”
She ignored Dante.
She cornered the man outside.
He raised his weapon.
Dante tackled him.
The man hit the pavement.
Before Dante could speak, the attacker whispered:
“She wasn't supposed to survive.”
“Who?”
“Clara.”
Then he bit down.
Dante grabbed his jaw.
Too late.
The man went still.
Emily stared.
“Poison?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“You're having a terrible week.”
Dante looked at her.
“You have no idea.”
He turned back toward the marina.
The video had left them one clue.
The child.
Someone had known.
May you like
Someone had hidden a child.
And somehow, Emily's family had been involved.
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