Chapter 2 - The Empty Bed
At 3:06 A.M., someone pounded on Hannah’s door.
She sat upright.
For half a second, she had no idea where she was.
Then the pounding came again.
“Hannah.”
Dante.
Not Mr. Morelli.
Not the calm, infuriating man from the hallway.
This voice was different.
She threw back the blankets and opened the door.
Dante stood there without his jacket.
His sleeves were rolled to his forearms.
His face looked carved from stone.
“Is Luca with you?”
Hannah’s sleepiness vanished.
“No.”
“Did he say anything tonight? Anything about leaving?”
“No. We studied until nine. He complained about history. He stole two cookies. He went upstairs.”
Dante turned away.
“Dante.”
He stopped.
“What happened?”
“His room is empty.”
The mansion changed in minutes.
Lights came on across the property.
Security men moved through halls with radios.
The gates locked.
Cars were checked.
The grounds were searched.
Hannah pulled on jeans and a sweater and found Mrs. Rose near the main staircase, pale and shaking.
“Has he ever run away?”
“Never.”
“Could he have gone somewhere on the property?”
“They are checking.”
“His phone?”
“On his nightstand.”
That frightened Hannah more than anything else.
Luca lived with his phone.
He carried it to breakfast.
He carried it to tutoring.
Once he had taken it into the pantry to watch a basketball game after Dante shut off the television.
He would not leave it behind by accident.
Hannah went upstairs.
Dante was standing in Luca’s room.
The curtains moved in the cold air.
One window was open six inches.
There were no obvious signs of a struggle.
Dante’s right hand was bleeding.
Hannah looked down.
His knuckles were split.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I said nothing.”
She saw the cracked wooden edge of Luca’s desk.
He had hit it.
Dante Morelli, who barely raised his voice, had punched a desk.
“Dante.”
He turned.
She almost stepped backward.
His eyes were wild.
Not angry.
Terrified.
“I told security to check the cameras.”
“They are.”
“One camera on the north path went dark at two forty-one.”
“Could be technical.”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because cameras on this property do not fail.”
His phone rang.
He answered immediately.
“Talk.”
Hannah watched his face as someone spoke.
“No vehicles?”
Pause.
“Check the walls. Every section.”
Another pause.
“Then check again.”
He ended the call.
Hannah looked around.
Luca’s bed had been made.
Too neat.
There was a book on the nightstand.
A glass of water.
His school sweatshirt tossed over a chair.
Then she noticed something on the floor.
A faint line of dirt near the closet.
She crouched.
“Dante.”
He came over.
“There’s soil.”
“So?”
“Luca hates mud.”
“That is not useful.”
“It might be.”
She touched it.
Dry.
Dark.
Small pieces of dried leaves.
Not driveway dirt.
Potting soil.
Hannah stood.
“Does he ever go to the greenhouse?”
Dante became still.
“What greenhouse?”
“Mrs. Rose mentioned an old one behind the west garden. Luca showed me a picture once. Said nobody uses it anymore.”
Dante was already moving.
They crossed the back lawn in the freezing dark.
Two guards followed.
The old greenhouse stood beyond a line of hedges, almost hidden by bare trees.
One glass panel was broken.
Dante reached the door first.
Locked.
He grabbed the handle.
“Luca!”
No answer.
Dante pulled harder.
“Move,” one guard said.
He used a key from a ring.
The door opened.
Cold air smelled of dirt and dead plants.
A flashlight beam swept across empty tables.
“Hannah, stay behind me.”
She ignored him.
“Luca?”
A sound.
Not from the main room.
From behind a half-collapsed partition.
Hannah moved first.
She found Luca sitting on the floor between two old planting benches.
His knees were drawn to his chest.
He was wearing pajama pants, socks, and a winter coat over a T-shirt.
His breathing was too fast.
Hannah crouched.
“Hey.”
He looked at her.
His face was white.
Dante appeared behind her.
“Luca.”
The boy flinched.
Dante stopped as though someone had struck him.
Hannah held up one hand.
“Give him a second.”
Dante’s voice broke around the edges.
“What happened?”
Luca shook his head.
“Hannah.”
“I’m here.”
“I couldn’t breathe.”
“Okay.”
“My room felt—”
His breath caught.
“Too small?”
He nodded.
Hannah sat on the cold floor.
“Look at me. In through your nose. Slow.”
He tried.
“Again.”
Dante stood three feet away, helpless.
That frightened Hannah almost as much as Luca’s panic.
She counted breaths.
Four in.
Six out.
Again.
Again.
Gradually, Luca’s shoulders lowered.
His hands stopped shaking.
Dante crouched then, but he did not touch him.
“Why did you leave?”
Luca stared at the dirt.
“Today.”
“What about today?”
“Dad.”
Dante closed his eyes.
Hannah understood.
The anniversary.
Eight months exactly.
Luca whispered, “He used to bring me here.”
Dante’s face changed.
“You should have told me.”
“Why? So you could tell me to move on?”
“I have never told you to move on.”
“You don’t say anything!”
The words slammed through the greenhouse.
“You never say his name. You took his pictures out of the study. You got rid of his car. You locked his office. You act like he never existed.”
Dante stood.
His face went blank.
Too blank.
Luca pushed himself to his feet.
“You don’t even care.”
Dante went white.
Hannah saw it.
The blow landed.
Not on his pride.
Somewhere much deeper.
Luca immediately looked as if he regretted saying it, but he was fifteen and hurting and did not know how to retrieve words.
Dante stepped backward.
“I’ll have Marco take you inside.”
“Dante—”
“Go inside.”
His voice was controlled again.
That was worse.
Luca looked at Hannah.
She squeezed his shoulder.
“I’ll come up.”
After Luca left with the guard, Hannah remained.
Dante stared at the broken greenhouse roof.
“You should go too.”
“No.”
His mouth tightened.
“Hannah.”
“You found him.”
“He was missing for twenty-five minutes.”
“He was here.”
“I did not know that.”
“You know now.”
Dante turned to her.
The fear in his face was gone.
The mask had returned.
“I should have known before.”
“You can’t know everything.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No.”
“I have to.”
“Why?”
He looked at her as if she had asked him why gravity existed.
“Because people die when I don’t.”
Hannah’s breath caught.
There it was.
Not the whole truth.
But a piece.
Dante walked toward the door.
She followed.
“Your father?”
He stopped.
“Did he die because you didn’t know something?”
His shoulders became rigid.
“You are crossing a line.”
“Maybe.”
“Go back to your room.”
“You were terrified tonight.”
He turned.
In the dark, his face was hard and exhausted.
“I am not discussing this.”
“Fine.”
She stepped closer.
“But don’t pretend I imagined it.”
His gaze dropped to her face.
“You saw my brother missing.”
“I saw you afraid.”
Something passed through his eyes.
Then he said, very quietly, “That is not a thing I allow people to see.”
“I’m not people.”
He inhaled.
Hannah had not meant it the way it sounded.
Or maybe she had.
Dante came closer.
She could feel the tension from the hallway again.
Only this time it was mixed with something rawer.
More dangerous because it was human.
“What are you, then?” he asked.
She could not answer.
The greenhouse door opened behind them.
One of the guards stepped in.
“Boss.”
Dante did not look away from Hannah.
“What?”
“We found why the north camera went down.”
That changed everything.
Dante turned.
The guard held out a small black object inside a plastic evidence sleeve.
“A signal jammer. Buried by the wall.”
Hannah stared.
Dante’s entire body went still.
Luca had not been kidnapped.
But someone had wanted the property blind.
Tonight.
On the anniversary of Carlo Morelli’s death.
Dante took the jammer.
His fear disappeared beneath something colder.
“Lock the estate.”
“Already done.”
“No one leaves. Staff, guards, deliveries. Nobody.”
The guard nodded.
Dante looked at Hannah.
“You will stay in your room.”
“No.”
His eyes flashed.
“This is not negotiable.”
“Luca needs me.”
“Luca needs to be alive.”
“So do I, apparently.”
His jaw tightened.
“Hannah.”
“If someone got onto the property, keeping me alone in a bedroom doesn’t sound especially safe.”
For one second, despite everything, Dante looked as if he wanted to argue simply because she had annoyed him.
Then he made a decision.
“You stay with Luca.”
“Fine.”
“Marco outside the door.”
“Fine.”
“You do not leave that room without him.”
“Fine.”
He leaned closer.
“And you stop saying fine like you are planning to ignore me.”
She almost smiled.
“I would never.”
His eyes narrowed.
Then he left.
Hannah returned to Luca’s room.
The boy was sitting on the bed.
Mrs. Rose had brought hot chocolate.
He looked up.
“Is he mad?”
“At you?”
Luca nodded.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he looked like someone had ripped his heart out when you said he didn’t care.”
Luca stared at the mug.
“I didn’t mean it.”
“I know.”
“He never talks about Dad.”
“Maybe talking hurts.”
“So?”
“So people avoid things that hurt.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Extremely.”
Luca looked at her.
“Do you think Dante is scared of anything?”
Hannah remembered the empty room.
The blood on Dante’s knuckles.
The way he had said, I have to know everything because people die when I don’t.
“Yes.”
“Like what?”
She pulled the blanket over Luca’s legs.
“Losing you.”
He rolled his eyes, but they turned bright.
Hannah stayed until he slept.
At 5:41 A.M., she opened the door.
Marco stood outside.
“Where is Dante?”
The guard hesitated.
“His father’s office.”
“The locked one?”
Marco said nothing.
Hannah understood that as yes.
She should have gone back to her room.
Instead, she walked downstairs.
The office door stood open for the first time since she had arrived.
Inside, Dante was sitting behind his father’s desk.
A glass of untouched whiskey sat beside him.
On the desk lay an old photograph.
Carlo Morelli.
Dante, younger.
Luca, maybe eight.
All three standing in the greenhouse.
Dante looked up.
“I told you to stay upstairs.”
“Him?”
He looked at the photograph.
“No.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Pretending you’re angry when you’re actually hurting.”
His gaze hardened.
“You have developed a dangerous amount of confidence in this house.”
“So fire me.”
Silence.
Hannah’s heart pounded.
Dante stood.
Slowly.
“No.”
He walked around the desk.
He stopped inches from her.
“I should.”
“But?”
His voice lowered.
“But you are the first person Luca trusts since my father died.”
Hannah swallowed.
“That’s not the only reason.”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
Their eyes met.
For one reckless second, Hannah thought he might kiss her.
Instead, Dante lifted a hand and brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek.
The touch was so gentle it hurt.
Then he stepped back.
“Go upstairs.”
This time, she obeyed.
She did not see him again until breakfast.
And when she did, Dante was no longer frightened.
He was dangerous.
Because someone had entered his property.
May you like
Someone had disabled his camera.
And someone, Hannah would soon learn, had been inside Carlo Morelli’s locked office before dawn.
