Chapter 3 - The Locked Nursery Contained a Wall of Missing-Person Photographs—and My Sister Had Been Using It to Track People My Family Claimed Never ExistedThe nursery was at the end of the east wing.
The door had remained locked for eight years.
I carried the key myself.
When I opened it, dust filled the air.
Nothing moved.
The room still looked like a child's room.
A painted moon on the wall.
A wooden horse.
Old books.
A shelf of stuffed animals.
My sister had decorated it for the daughter she never had.
I remembered her laughing when she first showed it to me.
“Someday,” she'd said.
Someday never came.
I walked deeper into the room.
Behind the wardrobe was a second door.
That was new.
I pulled it open.
A hidden room.
Inside were hundreds of photographs.
People.
Faces.
Families.
Children.
Doctors.
Politicians.
And beside each photo was a file.
I picked one up.
A young woman.
No name.
Disappeared: 2012.
Another.
A businessman.
Disappeared: 2014.
Another.
A twelve-year-old boy.
Disappeared: 2015.
My stomach turned.
I searched for Alessandra's handwriting.
There.
She had written everything herself.
These people were moved through Moretti-controlled facilities.
I stopped breathing.
“My family?”
Elena stood behind me.
“I told you.”
“Your mother knew.”
She nodded.
“She helped Alessandra.”
“Why?”
“Because they were trying to expose something.”
I looked at the files.
“What?”
Elena didn't know.
Then Sophie walked in.
She pointed toward a photograph.
“That man.”
I looked.
“Who?”
“The one who gave Mommy the key.”
A man in his fifties.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
I knew him.
Victor's assistant.
Thomas.
I felt cold.
My estate manager had been working with Alessandra.
But was he helping her?
Or monitoring her?
I opened the records.
Thomas's name appeared several times.
Not as an accomplice.
As a witness.
He had provided access codes.
Transportation records.
Security schedules.
Perhaps he had been helping Alessandra.
Then another name appeared.
Marco.
Again.
And beneath it:
Compromised.
I searched deeper.
Marco had been receiving payments from an offshore company.
That company was controlled by Victor.
I suddenly understood.
Victor had used Marco.
Marco had participated in Alessandra's death.
But Victor had been behind the larger operation.
I searched the final folder.
One sentence:
Victor Hale is not the mastermind.
I froze.
Who was?
Alessandra had written a name beneath it.
Luca's father.
My stomach dropped.
My father.
Dead.
But the account transfers continued after his supposed death.
Someone had been using his identity.
Then I heard footsteps.
We turned.
Victor stood in the doorway.
He wasn't surprised to see us.
He simply looked at the files.
“You should have stayed at the dinner table.”
I stared.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“About the nursery.”
“Yes.”
“My sister.”
“Yes.”
“The tape.”
“Yes.”
“You killed her.”
He looked at me.
“No.”
“You were there.”
“I was.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
Victor walked into the room.
“Your sister discovered the network.”
“What network?”
“The one your father built.”
I stared.
“My father?”
“He wasn't the man you thought he was.”
“What did he build?”
“An organization that moved money, people, and information.”
“Why?”
“Control.”
I shook my head.
“And Alessandra tried to expose it.”
“Yes.”
“You stopped her.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Someone else did.”
“Who?”
May you like
Victor smiled sadly.
“Someone you still call family.”
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