Chapter 8 - My Mother’s Last Secret
My mother’s apartment had been sold after her death.
The building was old.
The hallway smelled like dust and rain.
Vincent followed me inside.
He watched as I opened the tiny storage closet my mother had never let anyone enter.
There were boxes everywhere.
Christmas decorations.
Old photographs.
Receipts.
Letters.
I found a small wooden bird.
Its wings were painted black.
Underneath was a red circle.
Vincent stared at it.
“Open it.”
Inside was a brass dial.
Three numbers.
I recognized them immediately.
My birthday.
Lily’s birthday.
And Isabella’s death date.
Vincent entered them into a small combination safe hidden behind the wall.
It opened.
Inside was the missing ledger.
But there was something else.
A letter addressed to me.
Sarah,
I am sorry.
That was all I needed to read before I began crying.
The letter explained everything.
My mother had met Isabella before her death.
Isabella had discovered Vincent was being betrayed by his own father.
Their father had built the criminal network behind Vincent’s back.
He planned to use Vincent as a public face while secretly selling information.
Isabella had tried to stop him.
My mother helped her hide Lily.
But Isabella knew she would not survive.
So she gave the child to me.
Not because I was family.
Because I was the one person she trusted who had no connection to the organization.
My mother promised to protect us.
She had kept that promise until the day she died.
The final paragraph made my hands shake.
Sarah,
There is one more truth I could never tell you.
Vincent does not know you exist in connection to this family.
He must never know unless Lily becomes threatened.
If that day comes, give him the letter.
He will protect her even if it costs him everything.
I looked up.
Vincent was crying.
He turned away.
“She knew me.”
“Yes.”
“She trusted me.”
“Yes.”
“And I never knew.”
He looked broken.
Then Lily entered the room.
She was carrying her stuffed rabbit.
She looked at Vincent.
“Daddy sad?”
Vincent knelt.
“Yes.”
Lily hugged him.
It was the smallest thing.
But Vincent broke.
He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.
I turned away to give them privacy.
That was when I noticed another envelope inside the safe.
It had Vincent’s name.
I opened it.
The message was short.
Your father did not die naturally.
He was killed.
And the person who killed him is still alive.
Vincent took the paper.
His face became cold.
“Who?”
The last line answered.
The man who raised Adrian.
I knew that name.
Because my mother had written it beneath the sentence.
Dominic Russo.
Vincent’s oldest enemy.
The man everyone thought was dead.
We returned to the mansion.
Before we entered, Vincent stopped me.
“Sarah.”
“Yes?”
“When this is over, I want you and Lily to leave.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Because my life is dangerous.”
“And ours isn’t?”
“I want you safe.”
I smiled sadly.
“You can’t decide that for me.”
His eyes softened.
“No.”
“You can ask.”
He nodded.
“Then I’m asking.”
I looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
He reached toward me.
Then stopped.
“Fair.”
We entered.
The mansion was silent.
Too silent.
Nico appeared.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Lily’s room is empty.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“She was sleeping.”
Vincent ran upstairs.
I followed.
The crib was empty.
The window was open.
A black bird was painted on the wall.
May you like
And beneath it were four words.
THANK YOU FOR BRINGING HER HOME.
