Chapter 7 - The Wife Who Came Back From the Dead
Vincent replayed the recording five times.
It was only four seconds long.
Vincent, don’t come looking for me.
He knew the voice.
So did Elena when we called her.
“That’s Isabella,” she said.
“Where is she?” Vincent demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“You knew she was alive.”
“No.”
“You always know more than you say.”
“So do you.”
They shouted at each other until I hung up.
Vincent stared at me.
“You hung up on her.”
“Yes.”
“No one hangs up on Elena.”
“I’m beginning to understand why.”
He laughed.
It was the first real laugh I had heard from him.
Then it vanished.
“What if she left because of me?”
I studied him.
“Did you hurt her?”
“No.”
“Cheat on her?”
“No.”
“Threaten her?”
“No.”
“Control her?”
He hesitated.
I raised an eyebrow.
“I was protective.”
“That means yes.”
“I had reasons.”
“So does every controlling person.”
He looked offended.
Then, surprisingly, thoughtful.
“I loved her.”
“Those two things can exist at the same time.”
He went quiet.
At noon, the lab confirmed Noah carried the mutation.
Daniel tested positive as a carrier.
So did I.
That meant our mother carried it.
It tied us biologically to the same line Halpern had tracked.
But it still did not tell us where Claire was.
The clue came from the cassette tape.
The hospital found an old player.
My father’s voice filled the room.
Rachel, if you’re hearing this, you’re probably angry with me.
I covered my mouth.
I had not heard his voice in twenty-seven years.
You have every right.
There are things parents hide because they’re cowards. There are things they hide because they’re trying to keep their children alive.
I hope mine was the second.
Vincent stood near the door.
Daniel sat beside me.
My father continued.
If Carlo’s people ever start looking for Sofia’s descendants again, find Samuel Halpern.
If Halpern is gone, find his daughter.
Her name is Marianne.
She knows where the children were taken.
I stopped the tape.
“Halpern had a daughter?”
Vincent was already typing.
“Marianne Halpern died six years ago.”
Daniel swore.
“Children?”
Vincent searched.
“One.”
He looked up.
“Isabella.”
The room went silent.
“What?”
“Marianne Halpern married Antonio Rossi. Their daughter was Isabella Rossi.”
Then Vincent had married Isabella.
I stared.
“So Isabella’s grandfather was Halpern.”
Vincent looked stunned.
“She never told me.”
“She may not have known until later.”
Daniel stood.
“If Isabella knew where the children were taken, she could know where Claire is.”
Vincent’s phone buzzed.
A message.
A photograph.
Isabella.
Alive.
Standing beside Claire.
Both women looked exhausted but unharmed.
Beneath the image were coordinates.
And one sentence.
Bring Rachel only.
Vincent looked at me.
“No.”
I almost laughed.
“You’re learning that word really slowly.”
“It could be a trap.”
“Of course it’s a trap.”
“And you still want to go?”
“My sister-in-law is in that photograph.”
“My wife is in that photograph.”
“Then we agree.”
“No. We disagree about who walks into the trap.”
“Vincent.”
“Rachel.”
Daniel interrupted.
“You two can flirt later.”
We both turned.
“We are not flirting,” I said.
“At all,” Vincent added.
Daniel looked between us.
“Sure.”
The coordinates led to an abandoned summer camp two hours north.
Police were informed but kept at distance.
Vincent’s security surrounded the property.
I walked in alone.
The main lodge smelled like dust and pine.
“Isabella?”
A woman stepped from the shadows.
She looked thinner than in photographs.
But alive.
Vincent’s wife.
Beside her stood Claire.
Daniel’s wife.
She saw me and burst into tears.
“Rachel.”
I ran to her.
She held me so tightly I could barely breathe.
“Where’s Daniel?”
“Outside.”
“No.”
“He’s safe.”
“No men.”
Her eyes were terrified.
“Claire, who took you?”
She looked at Isabella.
Isabella answered.
“We did.”
I pulled away.
“What?”
“We had to disappear.”
“Why?”
“Because the person looking for Noah is not Carlo.”
“He’s dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then who?”
Isabella’s eyes filled.
“My mother.”
“Marianne Halpern is dead.”
“No.”
I felt the ground shift beneath me.
“The death was staged.”
Of course it was.
“Why does she want Noah?”
“Because he proves the program worked.”
“What program?”
Isabella’s face hardened.
“Not a study.”
“A breeding registry.”
I stared.
She continued.
“My grandfather Halpern tracked the mutation. Carlo used it to identify Sofia’s descendants. My mother took over after both men died. She built a network around it.”
“For what?”
“Money. Influence. Blackmail.”
“How?”
“Families with certain genetic lines. Wealthy families. Political families. Criminal families. Children were tracked before birth. Some pregnancies were manipulated. Some babies were relocated.”
I felt sick.
“Noah?”
“Claire’s pregnancy was identified because of Daniel’s bloodline.”
Claire began crying.
“They told me my baby died.”
I grabbed her hand.
“He didn’t.”
“Is he okay?”
“He has the disorder, but it’s treatable.”
She collapsed into me.
For several seconds, the only sound was her sobbing.
Then Isabella said, “Rachel, there’s more.”
I looked at her.
“Your father wasn’t killed because he stole records.”
“What?”
“He was killed because he discovered who Marianne really was.”
“Who?”
Isabella looked toward the door.
“She isn’t Samuel Halpern’s daughter.”
I waited.
“She’s Carlo Castrovani’s daughter.”
May you like
Vincent’s sister.
And Isabella’s mother.
