Chapter 3 - The Photograph in My Husband’s Watch
For three days, Gabriel kept his distance.
That somehow made him more unsettling.
He didn't call.
Didn't send gifts.
Didn't appear outside my apartment.
He simply had people watching the building.
I noticed them anyway.
A black SUV across the street.
A man near the grocery store.
A woman sitting in her car outside Maya's school.
I hated the feeling.
But I hated the alternative more.
On the fourth day, Gabriel came to my apartment.
He knocked once.
Maya opened the door before I could stop her.
“Hi.”
Gabriel looked down.
“Hello.”
“Are you the cake man?”
He almost smiled.
“Yes.”
“Mom says you're dangerous.”
I closed my eyes.
“Maya.”
“What?”
Gabriel looked at me.
“She isn't wrong.”
Maya thought about that.
“Are you a bad man?”
Silence.
Gabriel crouched so they were eye level.
“I've done bad things.”
Maya frowned.
“Like what?”
“Things grown-ups aren't supposed to do.”
She nodded solemnly.
“Mom says grown-ups make lots of mistakes.”
Gabriel glanced at me.
“She sounds smart.”
“She is.”
Maya pointed toward the kitchen.
“We have no cookies.”
I laughed despite myself.
Gabriel reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small box.
“Now you do.”
Maya took it.
“Can you stay?”
I expected him to say no.
Instead:
“If your mother permits it.”
I stared at him.
“You have work.”
“I do.”
“Then go.”
He smiled.
“That's probably what you're supposed to say.”
Maya giggled.
Gabriel left.
That night, Maya ate cookies at the kitchen table while I cooked soup.
She asked:
“Do you like him?”
I nearly dropped the spoon.
“I barely know him.”
“You look at him.”
“I look at everyone.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You look at him differently.”
She was six.
She had absolutely no business noticing things that adults spent years pretending not to see.
Then she said:
“Daddy used to look at people like that.”
The spoon stopped in my hand.
“Daddy?”
“Before he left.”
I knelt beside her.
“What do you mean?”
“Scared.”
My heart tightened.
“You remember Daddy?”
“Sometimes.”
She pointed at the cake box.
“He said bad men would come someday.”
I froze.
“When did he say that?”
“Before he went away.”
“Did he tell you anything else?”
She frowned.
“He gave me something.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
She ran to her bedroom.
A minute later, she returned holding an old silver wristwatch.
Michael's watch.
I'd never seen it.
“Where did you get this?”
“Daddy gave it to me.”
I opened the back.
There was a small compartment.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
My hands shook as I unfolded it.
A series of numbers.
Then one sentence.
“Ask Gabriel Rossy about the blue room.”
I stared at the words.
Maya looked up.
“Is Gabriel the cake man?”
“Yes.”
“Can he help?”
“I don't know.”
I called him.
He answered on the first ring.
“What happened?”
“I found something.”
There was silence.
“What?”
“My husband's watch.”
“Where was it?”
“With Maya.”
His breathing changed.
“Do not leave your apartment.”
“Why?”
“Because now they know you have it.”
A sound came from the hallway.
I looked toward the door.
Someone was outside.
Gabriel's voice became sharp.
“Mia?”
I hadn't realized I'd given him my real name.
“What?”
“Lock the door.”
I did.
A knock sounded.
“Mrs. Bennett?”
The same voice from before.
Claraara pulled Maya behind her.
Then footsteps moved away.
A car engine started.
Gabriel said:
“I'm coming.”
“You said not to leave.”
“I changed my mind.”
He arrived eight minutes later.
Two bodyguards followed.
He took the watch.
Examined the note.
Then looked at me.
“Blue room.”
“What is it?”
“A room in an old hotel my father owned.”
“What happened there?”
“Something that should have stayed buried.”
We drove there that night.
The hotel had been closed for years.
Broken windows.
Peeling wallpaper.
Mold.
The blue room was on the fourth floor.
The door was painted blue.
Gabriel unlocked it.
Inside were boxes.
Old financial documents.
Photographs.
And a child's drawing.
Two boys.
One older.
One younger.
The older boy looked like Gabriel.
The younger one looked like Michael.
I stared.
“That's him.”
Gabriel nodded.
“My father had two sons.”
I looked at him.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You didn't know Michael was your brother?”
“We were separated when we were young.”
He swallowed.
“I thought he was dead.”
My hand covered my mouth.
Michael wasn't merely my husband.
He was Gabriel's half-brother.
The revelation was so enormous that I couldn't process it.
Then I saw another photograph.
Michael.
Gabriel.
And a woman.
She was younger.
Beautiful.
She had Maya's eyes.
I turned toward Gabriel.
“Who is she?”
His face went rigid.
“My sister.”
“She's dead?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Pneumonia.”
I stared.
The cake.
The rain.
The inhaler.
Everything suddenly felt connected.
Gabriel turned over another photograph.
On the back was a note.
“Michael knows where she got sick.”
“Your sister?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
Gabriel's voice became quiet.
“My father ran illegal operations through the waterfront.”
“And?”
“My sister was exposed to chemicals in one of his warehouses.”
I stared at him.
“She died because of him.”
“Yes.”
“Michael knew.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he disappear?”
“He tried to expose our father.”
“So you and Michael were on the same side.”
“Not exactly.”
Gabriel walked toward the window.
“He wanted out.”
“And you?”
“I wanted revenge.”
The room went silent.
I thought about my husband.
Maybe he hadn't left because he stopped loving us.
Maybe he'd run because he was afraid.
Maybe he had stolen money because he needed protection.
Or maybe he had betrayed everyone.
We found another document.
A shipping manifest.
The same date Michael disappeared.
One name appeared again and again.
Russo's Patisserie.
My workplace.
My stomach dropped.
Gabriel looked at me.
“My father used the bakery as a meeting point.”
“So Albert knew.”
“Yes.”
I understood then.
Albert hadn't simply been cruel to me.
He had been protecting a secret.
Maybe that's why he wanted me gone.
Maybe that's why he recognized Gabriel.
Then a shot shattered the window.
Gabriel grabbed me.
“Down!”
Glass exploded across the room.
His body covered mine.
Another shot.
Then silence.
He looked at me.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Your daughter?”
“She isn't here.”
Gabriel's eyes hardened.
“Where is she?”
I remembered.
My father.
He had picked Maya up from school that afternoon.
“She's with my father.”
Gabriel pulled out his phone.
“Call him.”
I did.
No answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
Then a message arrived.
Unknown number.
A photograph.
My father sitting in a chair.
His hands tied.
Maya standing beside him.
My blood froze.
Gabriel looked at the screen.
May you like
His voice became deadly calm.
“They have your daughter.”
