Chapter 3 - The Locker Beneath the River
By morning, I had stopped feeling afraid.
Fear had been replaced by something colder.
Purpose.
Dante drove me through the sleeping city in a black SUV with tinted windows and two other vehicles behind us.
The rain had stopped.
The streets shone beneath the gray dawn.
I sat in the back seat holding my diary against my chest.
Dante sat beside me.
For twenty minutes neither of us spoke.
Then I asked the question that had been sitting in my throat.
“Why did you hide that you knew my brother?”
“I didn't know you'd come to work at Crimson.”
“You didn't recognize me?”
“I recognized your name.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“No.”
“What did Thomas say about me?”
Dante looked out the window.
“That you were stubborn.”
I stared.
“He told you that?”
“He said you were smarter than you believed.”
My throat tightened.
“He talked about me?”
“He talked about you constantly.”
I looked down.
For three years I had wondered whether my brother had thought of me before he died.
Now I knew.
Dante continued.
“He said if anything happened to him, you'd keep digging until you found the truth.”
I laughed bitterly.
“He knew me too well.”
“No.”
Dante looked at me.
“He loved you.”
The sentence broke something open inside me.
I turned toward the window so he wouldn't see my eyes.
The first locker was inside an old riverfront storage facility that had been closed for years.
Dante showed the manager a key.
We walked through concrete corridors lined with rusting doors.
My diary numbers led us to a unit beneath ground level.
Locker 417.
Dante inserted the key.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
“Wrong locker?”
“No.”
He examined the lock.
“It's electronic.”
I stared.
“Then how did Thomas expect you to open it?”
Dante looked at me.
“Your diary.”
I opened it.
The last number on the page was seven digits.
I entered them.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Inside sat one cardboard box.
Nothing else.
Dante put on gloves.
He opened the box.
Inside were financial ledgers, a flash drive, three photographs, and a folded letter.
He picked up the letter.
It had my name on it.
I couldn't move.
He handed it to me.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
Sof,
If you're reading this, I'm probably dead.
I'm sorry.
I need you to know that none of this was your fault.
I got involved because I believed I could stop something bigger than us.
I was wrong.
There are people protecting Victor Hale.
But Victor is not the real boss.
He works for someone else.
Someone who has been close to our family for years.
Don't trust anyone who tells you they can protect you.
Especially the man with the silver ring.
I stared at the final line.
“The man with the silver ring.”
Dante looked down.
His hand was resting on the table.
He wore a silver ring.
My stomach dropped.
I stood up quickly.
“You.”
Dante looked at his hand.
Then at me.
“What?”
“The ring.”
His expression changed.
He removed it.
“I've worn this since I was nineteen.”
“Thomas told me not to trust the man with the silver ring.”
Dante's face became unreadable.
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“I've heard the phrase before.”
“From whom?”
“My father.”
The room went silent.
Dante set the ring down.
“My father was obsessed with identifying the person behind Victor Hale.”
“Did he find them?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“He died before he could tell me.”
I stared.
“Then how do you know?”
“Because of that.”
He pointed to the ledger.
I opened it.
Inside were names.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police commanders.
Corporate executives.
And one name repeated over and over.
Evelyn Reed.
My mother.
I froze.
“No.”
Dante watched me carefully.
“Do you know that name?”
“She's my mother.”
He didn't look surprised.
“What does she have to do with Victor?”
“I don't know.”
I turned the pages.
There were payment records.
Transfers.
Dates.
Then one note handwritten in red ink.
She knows about the child.
“What child?”
Dante didn't answer.
I looked at him.
“What child?”
He reached for the flash drive.
“We need to go.”
“Why?”
“Because the people who built this system just lost access to their biggest secret.”
“Which is?”
He stared at me.
“You.”
We heard footsteps outside.
Several.
Dante pulled me behind him.
The door burst open.
Men in tactical clothing entered.
Dante fired.
The room exploded into chaos.
I ran.
We escaped through a side tunnel beneath the facility.
Halfway through, my foot slipped.
Dante caught me.
His arm locked around my waist.
For one suspended second, our faces were inches apart.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He released me.
We kept moving.
Behind us came gunfire.
Then a voice echoed through the tunnel.
“Sofia!”
I recognized it.
Victor Hale.
“You've been looking for me!”
I stopped.
Dante grabbed my arm.
“No.”
Victor's voice came again.
“You deserve the truth about your family.”
My heart raced.
“What does he know?”
May you like
Dante looked at me.
“Everything.”
