Chapter 3 - The Pendant Around Sadi's Neck
The next morning, Dante said nothing about the message.
He watched Sadi over breakfast.
She ate toast with one hand while checking his temperature with the other.
“Stop staring at me.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you haven't touched your coffee.”
Dante looked down.
She was right.
He lifted the cup.
“Happy?”
“Moderately.”
He drank.
She smiled.
It was the first time he'd seen her smile directly at him.
For one dangerous second, Dante wanted to see it again.
He hated that thought.
He stood.
Pain shot through his side.
Sadi caught his arm.
“Slowly.”
“I can walk.”
“I didn't say you couldn't.”
Their faces were close.
Dante stared at her.
She stared back.
Then she stepped away.
“Your fever is down.”
“Good.”
“The bullet still needs removal.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
She sighed.
“You're going to die from stubbornness.”
“It's less embarrassing than dying in surgery.”
She rolled her eyes.
Then Rosa entered.
“Miss Gallagher, there's a visitor.”
“Who?”
“Someone from the bank.”
Dante's expression sharpened.
“What bank?”
Rosa handed him a card.
Dante read it.
His face changed.
“Send him away.”
Rosa nodded.
Sadi noticed.
“Who is he?”
“Nobody.”
“You're lying.”
Dante looked at her.
“You notice too much.”
“So did my professors.”
That afternoon, Sadi went downstairs.
She was carrying linens when one of the guards stopped her.
“Where did you get that?”
She looked down.
The pendant.
“I've had it since I was a child.”
“Take it off.”
Before Sadi could answer, Dante appeared behind him.
“Move.”
The guard stepped aside.
Dante looked at Sadi's pendant.
“Where did you get it?”
“My mother.”
“Who was your mother?”
“Isabel Gallagher.”
Dante's heart sank.
“Where did she get it?”
“I don't know.”
He touched the pendant.
“Did she ever mention Clara Russo?”
Sadi froze.
“My mother mentioned a woman named Clara.”
Dante stopped breathing.
“What did she say?”
“She said Clara saved her life.”
Dante stared.
“From what?”
“My father.”
The room became silent.
Sadi looked at him.
“Why?”
Dante said nothing.
She continued.
“My mother told me my father wasn't a good man.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“What was his name?”
“Patrick Gallagher.”
Dante knew the name.
Patrick Gallagher had once worked for Dante's father.
An accountant.
A fixer.
And a thief.
He had disappeared seventeen years ago.
Dante looked at Sadi.
“Your father stole from my family.”
Sadi's face changed.
“What?”
“He took money.”
“My mother said he stole something.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
Dante stared at the pendant.
“Did your mother ever tell you why she left him?”
“She said he wanted something that belonged to Clara.”
Dante froze.
“What?”
Sadi looked confused.
“She said Clara trusted someone with a secret.”
Dante whispered:
“The key.”
Sadi touched the pendant.
“What key?”
Dante didn't answer.
He took her to the library.
There, beneath a painting of Clara, was a hidden safe.
Inside were old photographs.
Clara.
Dante.
His father.
And Sadi's mother.
Sadi stared at the picture.
“My mom knew your wife.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know yet.”
Sadi turned.
“Why is everyone lying?”
Dante looked at her.
“Because the truth gets people killed.”
“And what happens if you don't tell me?”
“People still die.”
She crossed her arms.
“You're no better.”
The words hit him harder than he expected.
Then Dante saw something in the photograph.
A small scar beneath his wife's left ear.
And the same scar on Sadi.
He stared.
“Where did you get that?”
“What?”
He pointed.
Sadi touched her ear.
“My mother said I was born with it.”
Dante's face went pale.
Clara had the exact same scar.
Then he noticed another detail.
The pendant.
The same bird.
The same circle.
His dead wife's symbol.
He looked at Sadi.
“Take a DNA test.”
She recoiled.
“Excuse me?”
“I need to know.”
“Know what?”
“I think you may be related to my wife.”
Sadi laughed once.
“That is impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm nobody.”
Dante's expression hardened.
“Never say that again.”
She stared.
He stepped closer.
“You walked into my study while I was dying.”
She didn't move.
“You treated a bullet wound.”
“You stood between me and a gunman.”
“You are not nobody.”
Sadi's eyes filled.
Neither spoke.
Then Rosa entered.
She looked at the pendant.
Her face drained of color.
“Oh, God.”
Dante turned.
“You know what it is.”
Rosa nodded.
“What?”
“The pendant belonged to Clara's sister.”
Sadi froze.
“Clara had a sister?”
Rosa whispered:
“Yes.”
Dante's eyes narrowed.
“What was her name?”
Rosa looked at Sadi.
“Isabel.”
Silence.
Sadi's entire body went cold.
“My mother.”
Rosa nodded.
“She was Clara's younger sister.”
Sadi stepped backward.
Dante caught her.
She looked up at him.
“Then who am I?”
Rosa answered:
“You are Clara's niece.”
Dante stared.
That explained the face.
The eyes.
The scar.
The pendant.
But one question remained.
Why had Clara hidden her niece?
Rosa looked toward Dante.
“Because Clara believed your father was trying to kill her.”
Dante felt his stomach drop.
“Why?”
May you like
Rosa whispered:
“Because he thought Clara had stolen the key.”
