Chapter 5 - The Photograph Hidden Inside Her Cello
Dorian moved Serena to a different location that night.
Not another safe house.
His private residence.
An old penthouse overlooking Central Park.
It was quieter than the underground bunker.
No visible guards.
No armed men inside.
Only security outside.
Serena sat near the window.
"I didn't know you lived like this."
"I own the building."
"Of course you do."
A small laugh escaped him.
"You think I'm arrogant."
"I think you have too much money."
"That's also true."
For a few seconds, the tension disappeared.
Then Serena's fingers found the cello case.
She opened it.
Something felt wrong.
The case was heavier.
She ran her fingers beneath the lining.
There was a seam.
Dorian noticed.
"What?"
She didn't answer.
She pulled at it.
The lining lifted.
Beneath it was a small metal compartment.
Her fingers touched a tiny object.
A photograph.
She pulled it out.
It was old.
Edges burned.
She touched the surface.
Dorian took it carefully.
His breathing changed.
"What?"
He stared.
"I know this place."
"Where?"
"Your father's office."
Serena's fingers tightened.
"What is the photograph?"
He turned it over.
"It's you."
"How old?"
"Maybe seven."
She swallowed.
"Who is standing beside me?"
Dorian became very still.
"Your mother."
Serena touched the photograph.
"Who else?"
Dorian didn't answer.
She heard the hesitation.
"Tell me."
"Me."
Her heart jumped.
"What?"
"I was seventeen."
"You knew me?"
"Apparently."
He handed her the photograph.
She ran her fingers along the raised edges.
"Why don't I remember you?"
"Because I was there for less than a minute."
"Why?"
"Your father introduced us."
She sat back.
"Why would my father introduce his twelve-year-old daughter to the son of a mafia boss?"
"Because he wasn't introducing you."
"What then?"
"He was giving my father a warning."
Dorian explained.
Serena's father had discovered that Dorian's father planned to use a child as leverage in an upcoming conflict.
Her father had tried to stop it.
The photograph was proof that Serena had been near a meeting where that information was discussed.
Dorian's father hadn't known Serena could hear.
But she had.
And according to an old recording, she had repeated one sentence.
A sentence that had frightened the men in the room.
Serena closed her eyes.
"What did I say?"
Dorian hesitated.
"You said, 'The man with the silver ring is lying.'"
Her breath caught.
She remembered something.
Not clearly.
A room.
A smell.
Her mother's perfume.
Men talking.
A silver ring.
Then screaming.
Then headlights.
Then impact.
Her head snapped up.
"I remember."
Dorian immediately moved closer.
"What?"
"The truck wasn't the first thing."
"What do you mean?"
"There were headlights."
She touched her temple.
"I was in the back seat."
"Yes."
"My brother was driving."
"He wasn't."
She stopped.
"What?"
Dorian looked at the photograph.
"Your brother wasn't driving."
Serena felt sick.
"Then who was?"
"Your father."
"But the police report said..."
"The police report was altered."
"Why?"
"Because your father was trying to get you out alive."
Suddenly the memories came.
Her father arguing.
Her mother screaming.
Her brother crying.
A car door opening.
A stranger's voice.
Then the words:
"Take the girl."
Serena gasped.
Dorian grabbed her shoulders.
"Serena."
"They tried to take me."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Think."
"Someone said, 'Take the girl.'"
Dorian went pale.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"Because everyone involved died that night."
"No."
He shook his head.
"One person survived."
"Who?"
Dorian whispered:
"Your mother."
Serena's eyes filled.
She stood.
"My mother wasn't hiding from them."
Dorian understood.
"She was hiding you."
A sudden knock sounded.
Mercer entered.
"Dorian."
"What?"
"Someone has been found outside."
"Who?"
Mercer hesitated.
"Your mother."
Serena froze.
"What?"
Mercer continued.
"She's unconscious."
Dorian moved.
"Where?"
"Central station."
"Who found her?"
"She walked into a police precinct carrying a photograph of Serena."
Serena's heart slammed against her ribs.
"Is she alive?"
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
Mercer looked at her.
"One sentence."
"What?"
"She said, 'Tell my daughter the man she trusts most is the one who caused the accident.'"
May you like
Serena turned slowly toward Dorian.
Neither spoke.
