Chapter 4 - The Sister Dante Refused to Suspect
Dante called Camila eleven times.
No answer.
By the twelfth, he stopped pretending he was calm.
He stood behind the restaurant bar, one hand gripping the phone hard enough that I expected the glass screen to crack.
“Again,” I said.
“No.”
“You’re giving up?”
“I’m changing approach.”
“That sounds ominous.”
He looked at one of his men.
“Find her.”
The man nodded and left.
I stared.
“Does everyone immediately obey you?”
“Usually.”
“That must be terrible for your personality.”
His eyes flicked toward me.
Under any other circumstance, maybe he would have smiled.
Not now.
“Camila did not kill Sofia.”
I leaned against the bar.
“I didn’t say she did.”
“Vellaro did.”
“Actually, he said Sofia was wrong about who killed her and told us to ask Camila.”
“Manipulation.”
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
“Dante.”
His jaw tightened.
I stepped closer.
“You don’t have to defend her from me.”
“She loved Sofia.”
“So did you.”
His face changed.
I regretted the sentence instantly.
“That came out wrong.”
“No.”
He looked toward the broken windows.
“It didn’t.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Dante did not answer.
He picked up Sofia’s notebook.
Flipped pages.
Stopped.
I moved beside him.
An entry:
Camila lied about March 2.
Need to ask again.
“What happened March second?” I asked.
Dante stared.
“Sofia’s accident was March fourth.”
Two days before.
Camila lied about something two days before Sofia died.
Dante’s phone rang.
He answered immediately.
“Yes.”
His expression changed.
“Where?”
Pause.
“Keep her there.”
He hung up.
“Camila?”
“At the house.”
“Why wasn’t she answering?”
“She left her phone in the nursery.”
“That sounds normal.”
“It isn’t.”
Of course.
Nothing was normal.
We drove back.
Dante barely spoke.
I watched his profile.
The scar.
The clenched jaw.
The way his thumb tapped once against his knee when he was worried.
I had known him less than twenty-four hours and was already noticing things.
Dangerous.
The house was quiet.
Camila stood in the library.
Angry.
Two security men outside.
She looked at Dante.
“What is this?”
He closed the door.
“Where were you March second?”
She stared.
“What year?”
“Last year.”
Her face changed.
I saw it.
Dante did too.
“Sofia wrote that you lied about that day.”
Camila looked at me.
Then back at him.
“You went through her things?”
“She left recordings.”
Camila’s eyes filled.
“What recordings?”
“Answer.”
Her expression hardened.
“You don’t get to interrogate me like one of your soldiers.”
“Then stop behaving like someone I have to interrogate.”
I stepped between them.
Both looked at me.
“This family communicates terribly.”
Camila stared.
I pointed at Dante.
“He thinks shouting quietly counts as emotional intelligence.”
Then at Camila.
“You look guilty even if you’re not.”
Camila’s mouth opened.
“Great.”
I stepped back.
“Now talk.”
Dante almost smiled despite himself.
Camila looked at him.
“March second, Sofia came to me.”
“What did she want?”
“A car.”
Dante frowned.
“She had three cars.”
“She wanted one you didn’t know.”
His face hardened.
“Why?”
“She was meeting someone.”
“Who?”
Camila looked at me.
“Lucia.”
My heartbeat stopped.
“What?”
Dante whispered.
“Lucia was alive?”
Camila nodded.
The room tilted.
“My mother is alive?”
“She was then.”
I grabbed the table.
Dante moved toward me.
I raised a hand.
“No.”
He stopped.
“Where?”
Camila’s eyes filled.
“I don’t know.”
“You gave Sofia a car to meet our mother and never told anyone?”
“I promised.”
“You let me think she was chasing ghosts.”
“I was trying to protect her.”
Dante laughed sharply.
“Everyone in this family protects people by lying.”
Camila looked angry.
“Don’t pretend you’re different.”
He froze.
That landed.
She continued.
“Sofia knew if you found out Lucia was alive, you would go after her immediately.”
“Of course.”
“And whoever had been hiding Lucia would follow you.”
Dante said nothing.
“So she made me promise.”
I asked, “Did Sofia meet her?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“She called afterward.”
My throat tightened.
“What did she say?”
Camila looked at me.
“She said Elina looks like her.”
I cried before I could stop it.
Sofia had shown Lucia my photograph.
My mother knew I was alive.
“When?”
“Two days before Sofia died.”
“Did Lucia ask to see me?”
Camila swallowed.
“Yes.”
My knees weakened.
Dante moved closer but again stopped before touching me.
“Why didn’t she?”
“Sofia said it wasn’t safe.”
I laughed through tears.
“Of course.”
Camila cried too.
“She planned to bring you together after she got the ledger.”
I wiped my face angrily.
“Where is Lucia?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who does?”
“Vellaro.”
Dante’s eyes darkened.
“Thomas was hiding her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Camila shook her head.
“Sofia didn’t tell me.”
Dante paced.
“What did you lie about?”
“When you asked me where I was March second.”
“Why?”
“I said I was with friends.”
“You were with Sofia.”
“Yes.”
“Did you drive?”
Camila looked away.
Dante stopped.
“What?”
“I followed her.”
Silence.
“Sofia told you not to?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you follow?”
“Because I didn’t trust the person she was meeting.”
“Our mother?”
“No.”
Camila looked at me.
“She met Vellaro first.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“Where?”
“Old church in Yonkers.”
“And?”
“He gave her an address.”
“Lucia’s.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I followed her to a motel.”
My skin crawled.
“Sofia went inside.”
“For how long?”
“Two hours.”
“You saw Lucia?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Sofia called me from inside.”
Camila swallowed.
“She was crying.”
“What did she say?”
“That Lucia told her everything.”
Dante stepped closer.
“What is everything?”
“I don’t know.”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“She only said…”
Camila stopped.
I waited.
“What?”
“She said Dante was in danger.”
He frowned.
“From who?”
“She didn’t say.”
I stared.
“Two days later she died.”
“Yes.”
Dante’s face became stone.
“And you never told me.”
Camila cried.
“You were barely functioning.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Leo was six days old.”
“I deserved to know.”
“She made me promise.”
Dante turned away.
The betrayal was personal.
Not because Camila caused Sofia’s death.
Because Sofia had shared part of her final secret with Camila instead of him.
I understood the wound.
I also understood Sofia.
Love did not automatically create safety.
Sometimes the people we loved most were the people most likely to explode when frightened.
Dante was proving that.
I stepped beside him.
“She was protecting you.”
He laughed bitterly.
“That does not make it better.”
“No.”
I looked at Camila.
“What else?”
Camila wiped her face.
“The night Sofia died, she called me.”
Dante spun around.
“What time?”
“Eight fifteen.”
“She crashed at nine twelve.”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“She had the ledger.”
Silence.
Dante stared.
“Sofia found it.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“And then?”
“She said someone had followed her.”
“Who?”
“She didn’t know.”
“Why didn’t you call security?”
“I did.”
Dante froze.
“What?”
“I called Marco.”
Dante’s face changed.
Not recognition I expected.
Fear.
“Marco?”
I asked, “Who is Marco?”
Camila whispered, “Our cousin.”
Dante’s voice turned cold.
“My head of security at the time.”
I looked between them.
“Where is he now?”
“Dead.”
“Of course.”
Dante continued.
“Shot three months after Sofia.”
“By?”
“Police during a robbery.”
Nobody believed that anymore.
Camila said, “Marco told me he sent men.”
Dante shook his head.
“No security team reached Sofia.”
“I know.”
“Did Marco know she had the ledger?”
“I told him.”
Dante closed his eyes.
There it was.
Camila understood at the same time.
“Oh God.”
“You gave him the one fact somebody needed.”
“I was trying to save her.”
Dante’s voice broke.
“He may have been the person following her.”
Camila covered her mouth.
“No.”
“It fits.”
“No.”
She began crying.
“I killed her.”
Dante crossed the room.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“I told Marco.”
“You did not know.”
“I told him she had the ledger.”
“You were trying to protect her.”
The words sounded different now.
Not accusation.
Compassion.
Dante held his sister while she cried.
I looked away.
They had both spent ten months privately blaming themselves.
Neither caused Sofia’s death.
But guilt had turned them against themselves.
A security guard knocked.
“Sir.”
Dante released Camila.
“What?”
“Package at the gate.”
“From?”
“No sender.”
“Scan it.”
“Already done. Paper only.”
Dante took the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Gianni tied to a chair.
Alive.
Behind him stood a wall with a painted blue number.
27.
A note.
MIDNIGHT TOMORROW.
BRING SOFIA’S DRIVE.
NO POLICE.
Below that:
ELINA COMES TOO.
Dante tore the note in half.
“No.”
I took the photograph.
“Why me?”
Camila looked closer.
“The wall.”
“What?”
She pointed.
“I know that place.”
Dante looked.
“Where?”
“Moretti Shipping Warehouse Twenty-Seven.”
His eyes hardened.
“It closed seven years ago.”
“Who owns it now?”
Dante thought.
“Vellaro Holdings.”
Of course.
I looked at the picture again.
Something behind Gianni’s chair caught my attention.
A painted symbol.
A small bird.
Blue.
I had seen it somewhere.
I closed my eyes.
The photograph from the basement.
Lucia holding us.
She wore a necklace.
Blue bird.
“Camila.”
She leaned closer.
“That symbol.”
Her face changed.
“Lucia’s necklace.”
Dante looked at us.
I pointed.
“That is not random.”
Camila nodded.
“Sofia wore the necklace after meeting Lucia.”
“What happened to it?” Dante asked.
Camila frowned.
“She was wearing it when she died.”
Dante went still.
“No.”
“What?”
“The coroner’s property list.”
He pulled out his phone.
Opened archived documents.
Scrolled.
Wedding ring.
Watch.
Earrings.
No necklace.
“It was missing.”
I stared at the blue bird behind Gianni.
“Then whoever has him knew Lucia.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“And was at Sofia’s crash.”
My phone rang.
Unknown.
Dante reached for it.
I slapped his hand away.
He looked offended.
“Mine.”
“Elina.”
I answered.
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice.
Weak.
Older.
“Lina?”
Everything inside me stopped.
Nobody had ever called me that.
Except Carla when I was very young.
“Who is this?”
The woman began crying.
“Oh, baby.”
My knees weakened.
Dante caught my elbow.
The voice whispered:
“My name is Lucia.”
I stopped breathing.
May you like
“And I am your mother.”
---
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