Chapter 2 - The Warning Elena Left Behind
Clara barely slept.
She sat on the edge of her bed in the tiny apartment above a laundromat, staring at the bruise on her wrist where Leo had held her.
It wasn't painful.
It was strange.
For six months she had watched children avoid her whenever she looked sad.
Leo had done the opposite.
He had reached for her.
And somehow, that frightened her more than Rico Moretti ever could.
Her younger brother, Noah, came into the room.
"Who drove you home?"
Clara looked up.
"A customer."
Noah frowned.
"Customers don't usually arrive with black SUVs and men who look like they bury people."
Clara sighed.
"You saw Dante."
"I saw enough."
She smiled faintly.
"I'm okay."
"That's what you always say."
Noah sat beside her.
"What happened?"
Clara hesitated.
Then she told him.
The restaurant.
Leo.
The milk.
The strange moment when the little boy grabbed her hand.
Noah listened quietly.
When she finished, he said, "You need to stay away from them."
"I know."
"Then why aren't you?"
Clara looked toward the window.
"Because that little boy needs someone."
Noah stared at her.
"You can't save everyone."
"I know."
"Especially not a Moretti."
Clara frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Noah looked away.
"Nothing."
She watched him.
"Noah."
He sighed.
"Mom knew Elena Moretti."
Clara froze.
"What?"
"Our mother used to clean houses in Brooklyn."
"I know."
"One of those houses belonged to the Morettis."
Clara's heart began pounding.
"When?"
"Before you were born."
She stood.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because Mom didn't want you involved."
"Involved in what?"
Noah shook his head.
"I don't know."
Before Clara could ask another question, her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice whispered.
"Stay away from Leo."
Clara froze.
"Who is this?"
"If you care about your brother, stay away from the Morettis."
The line disconnected.
Noah saw her face.
"What happened?"
Clara didn't answer.
She called the number back.
It was already disconnected.
Across Brooklyn, Rico stood in his office.
Dante had delivered the background report.
Clara Vance.
Twenty-four.
No criminal record.
No significant debt.
One younger brother.
Parents deceased.
Mother: Melissa Vance.
Occupation: domestic worker.
Former employer list included...
Moretti family residence.
Rico stared.
"How long did her mother work for us?"
"Two years."
"When?"
"Twenty-five years ago."
Rico looked at the file again.
"Anything else?"
Dante placed a second document on the desk.
"There's an old photograph."
Rico opened it.
The photograph showed Elena.
She was much younger.
Beside her stood Melissa Vance.
And behind them stood Rico's father.
Rico's eyes narrowed.
"Why was this never in Elena's files?"
"We don't know."
Rico flipped the photograph over.
One handwritten sentence appeared.
Keep Clara safe.
Rico stared.
His wife had known Clara.
His wife had apparently protected her.
And now, six months after Elena's death, Clara had walked into his life.
Coincidence was becoming difficult to believe.
That afternoon, Rico brought Clara to the family mansion.
She arrived in a plain black dress and a coat that had been repaired at the sleeve.
Leo came running as soon as he saw her.
"Dara!"
Clara crouched.
"Clara."
"Dara."
He wrapped his arms around her.
Rico stared.
Leo had not run to anyone since his mother died.
"How does he know your name?"
Clara smiled.
"He heard you say it."
Rico didn't answer.
The family doctor examined Leo.
Everything was normal.
Physically, at least.
Then the doctor examined Clara.
"Your voice has a calming effect on him."
"Why?"
"Some children associate a sound with safety."
Rico looked at Clara.
"His mother used to hum."
Clara quietly hummed a melody.
Leo's eyes widened.
The doctor went still.
Rico stared at her.
"Where did you learn that?"
Clara shook her head.
"I don't know."
"You were humming Elena's song."
"What song?"
"The one she sang to Leo."
Clara looked frightened.
"I've never heard it."
But Leo smiled.
Then he spoke.
"Mommy."
Rico's face crumpled.
He turned away.
Clara watched him.
For the first time she saw not the Butcher of Brooklyn.
She saw a grieving father.
Later, Rico found Clara alone in the kitchen.
"You knew Elena."
"No."
"My father knew your mother."
"I didn't know that."
"Your mother left something behind."
Clara's heart skipped.
"What?"
Rico placed the photograph on the table.
Clara looked at it.
Her mother.
Elena.
Rico's father.
She touched the image.
"Why were they together?"
"I don't know."
Clara stared at the handwriting.
Keep Clara safe.
Her hands began shaking.
"Who wrote this?"
"Elena."
Clara looked up.
"Why would your wife write my name?"
Rico didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
Then his phone rang.
Dante.
"Boss."
"What?"
"We found the woman who made the call."
Rico's expression changed.
"Where?"
"At a church in Red Hook."
"Who is she?"
"She says her name is Isabel Crane."
Rico's jaw tightened.
"That name means something."
Clara watched him.
"What?"
"Elena's doctor."
Clara's breath stopped.
Rico turned to her.
"Six months ago, Dr. Crane disappeared."
"Why?"
"We thought she was dead."
The next morning, they found Isabel Crane alive.
And she had one photograph.
A photograph taken three days before Elena died.
Elena was standing beside Clara's mother.
And both women were holding Leo.
May you like
On the back were four words.
SHE KNOWS WHY ELENA DIED.
