Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Buried
The Vale residence looked nothing like the stories I had heard about Adrian.
There were no gold statues. No nightclub glamour. No men with guns posted beside every door.
It was an enormous old brick house on a quiet street, half hidden behind iron gates and snow-covered trees.
Adrian brought me through a side entrance.
“Sit.”
I sat.
He placed a cup of tea in front of me.
Black.
No sugar.
The same tea he ordered at the Nocturne.
“You remember,” I whispered.
“I remember everything.”
He removed his coat and sat across from me.
For the first time since I had met him, I saw how tired he really was.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
“How did you know the locket belonged to Lucy?” I asked.
“I didn’t.”
He stared at the empty fireplace.
“Not until you showed me.”
“Was the photograph taken before the fire?”
“Yes.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Then you remember everything?”
“Enough.”
He looked down at his hands.
“My father told me Lucy was sleeping upstairs. I smelled smoke and ran toward her room.”
His voice grew quieter.
“I opened the door.”
He stopped.
I waited.
“I heard her screaming.”
My chest tightened.
“What happened?”
“The hallway collapsed.”
I looked at him.
“You thought she died there?”
“I saw the fire.”
He clenched his jaw.
“I saw the firefighters carry out my parents.”
“And Lucy?”
“I never saw her body.”
The words hung between us.
“Why was there no body?”
“Because the fire destroyed the second floor.”
“That doesn’t prove she died.”
“No.”
He looked directly at me.
“But everyone needed the story to end there.”
“Who needed it?”
He didn't answer.
A knock came at the door.
Nolan entered.
“We found something.”
He placed a transparent evidence bag on the table.
Inside was the locket.
My heart stopped.
“Where was it?”
“In the alley.”
Adrian's face darkened.
“Opened?”
“No.”
Nolan set a second item beside it.
A strip of black fabric.
“This was caught on the fence.”
Adrian picked it up.
“Bellano?”
“Possibly.”
“Tell me everything.”
Nolan hesitated.
Then he said, “The gunmen weren’t shooting randomly. They were trying to get to Mara.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
Nolan looked at Adrian.
“We traced one of the weapons. It came from a shipment tied to Victor Bellano.”
I recognized the name.
Even people like me knew Victor Bellano.
A businessman in public.
Something much worse in private.
Adrian had been fighting him for years.
“What does Bellano have to do with Lucy?” I asked.
Neither man answered.
That frightened me more than anything else.
Adrian opened a cabinet behind him and pulled out a file.
He placed it on the table.
There was a photograph.
A house.
The Vale house.
Another photograph.
A burned street.
Another.
A teenage Adrian.
Then a final one.
An old newspaper clipping.
I read the headline.
VALE FAMILY TRAGEDY LEAVES ONE SURVIVOR.
Below it was a quote from a police detective.
“Evidence indicates an electrical malfunction caused the blaze.”
“Was that true?” I asked.
Adrian shook his head.
“My father didn't trust the wiring.”
“Then why call it electrical?”
“Because someone paid for the report.”
My stomach turned.
“Who?”
“Detective Harold Crane.”
Nolan interrupted.
“Crane died eleven years ago.”
Adrian nodded.
“But before he died, he told my father something.”
“What?”
“He said the fire was never meant to kill everyone.”
I leaned forward.
“What did he mean?”
Adrian opened the locket.
The back plate had been removed.
Inside the hollow metal was a narrow strip of paper.
A series of numbers.
My breath caught.
“I never saw that.”
“I know.”
Nolan examined it.
“It's old.”
Adrian looked at me.
“What exactly did you do when you found it?”
“I repaired the coat.”
“Tell me.”
I explained everything.
The Harbor Street Thrift store.
The old brown wool coat.
The torn lining.
The hidden stitching.
The feeling of metal.
The way the locket had been tucked into a pocket that someone had sewn shut.
“Did you see who donated it?”
“The cashier said it came from an estate sale.”
“Which estate?”
“I don't know.”
Adrian stood.
“Find out.”
Nolan left.
I exhaled.
“I should go home.”
Adrian looked at me.
“No.”
“I can't stay here.”
“You can.”
“I don't even know you.”
Something in his face shifted.
“You've known me for two years.”
“I know the man who orders tea.”
“And?”
“I know people are afraid of you.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
I swallowed.
“I don't know who Adrian Vale is.”
He walked toward me.
Then stopped.
“You know who he is now.”
Before I could respond, a voice came from the hallway.
“Adrian?”
An older woman stepped into the room.
She was elegant, gray-haired, and dressed in a dark green sweater.
Her eyes landed on me.
Then on the locket.
Her face drained of color.
“No.”
Adrian turned.
“Aunt Evelyn?”
She stared at the silver bird.
“No one should have that.”
“Why?”
Her lips trembled.
“Because Lucy wore it the night of the fire.”
Silence.
Adrian moved closer.
“You told me Lucy gave it to Mother.”
“She did.”
“You said my mother kept it in the upstairs safe.”
“She did.”
“Then how did it end up inside a coat twenty-eight years later?”
Evelyn looked at me.
“I don't know.”
Adrian’s voice became dangerously calm.
“You're lying.”
She began crying.
“Adrian…”
“Tell me.”
She closed her eyes.
“I saw someone take Lucy out of the house.”
My blood ran cold.
Adrian froze.
“Who?”
“A woman.”
“What woman?”
“I didn't know her name.”
“Where did she take Lucy?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I only saw them near the back gate.”
Adrian grabbed the edge of the table.
“You watched my sister leave?”
“I thought your father arranged for her to be rescued.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he told me never to.”
Adrian's voice broke.
“My father knew she was alive?”
Evelyn looked at the locket.
“He knew someone wanted her.”
“Who?”
Evelyn opened her mouth.
Before she could speak, the house alarm screamed.
Nolan's voice blasted through the intercom.
“Everyone down! We have movement at the north gate.”
Adrian immediately stepped in front of me.
Evelyn whispered one name.
“Marianne Hart.”
Adrian turned.
“Who is that?”
May you like
Evelyn's eyes filled with tears.
“She was the woman who carried Lucy away.”
