Chapter 3 - The Photograph in the Attic
Dominic did not sleep.
Neither did Sadi.
The photograph sat inside a locked evidence case in his study.
Sadi could not stop thinking about it.
Someone had watched her before she ever saved Rosa.
That meant the shooting might not have been random.
It might not even have been entirely about Rosa.
At breakfast, Dominic was distant.
“You knew them?” he asked.
Sadi nearly dropped her coffee.
“No.”
“Think carefully.”
“I am thinking carefully.”
“Did anyone ever follow you?”
“No.”
“Threaten you?”
“No.”
“Ask about Rosa?”
“No.”
Dominic watched her.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
But Sadi knew better.
He suspected her.
That hurt more than she expected.
“I saved your mother.”
“I know.”
“I was shot four times.”
“I know.”
“And you think I planned it?”
“I think someone planned something.”
The words sat between them.
Sadi stood.
“Then investigate.”
She left.
Dominic watched her go.
Rosa entered moments later.
“You hurt her.”
“I asked questions.”
“You accused her without saying the words.”
Dominic rubbed his face.
“Ma, people around me die.”
“So you assume everyone is a weapon.”
“I assume everyone can be one.”
Rosa stared at him.
“Sadi is not everyone.”
Dominic looked toward the doorway.
“I’m trying to figure out who she is.”
“Then perhaps ask her.”
“I did.”
“No. You interrogated her.”
Rosa left.
That evening, Dominic received an old file from a retired detective on his payroll.
The detective had searched Sadi’s records.
The name was real.
Her employment was real.
Her apartment was real.
But there was one strange gap.
Her birth records did not match.
There was no hospital record under her name.
No mother listed.
No father.
Nothing.
It was as if Sadi had appeared at age nineteen.
Dominic stared at the file.
“Find out where she came from.”
The detective nodded.
“We are trying.”
Meanwhile, Sadi had started learning the mansion.
She discovered a staircase hidden behind the library.
It led to an old attic.
Dust covered the furniture.
Boxes filled the room.
She was not looking for secrets.
At first.
Then she saw a wooden chest.
On its side were the initials:
R.R.
Sadi stopped breathing.
Rosa Russo.
She knelt and opened it.
Inside were old photographs.
Rosa as a young woman.
Dominic as a child.
A family she did not recognize.
Then she saw one photograph that made the room spin.
A younger Rosa stood beside another woman.
The other woman held a baby.
On the back:
My little girl, born under a different name.
Sadi stared.
The baby’s face was too small to identify.
Then she saw the woman holding her.
The woman had the same eyes Sadi saw every morning in the mirror.
Her own.
Sadi dropped the photograph.
Footsteps sounded downstairs.
She shoved the picture into her pocket.
When she returned to her room, Dominic was waiting.
“You went into the attic.”
She froze.
“How do you know?”
“Security cameras cover the stairwell.”
“That’s creepy.”
“This house is creepy.”
He stepped closer.
“What did you find?”
“Nothing.”
He studied her face.
“Sadi.”
“I said nothing.”
He nodded slowly.
“Then we have a problem.”
“I guess we do.”
He left.
That night, Sadi called an old number she had not dialed in years.
It went to voicemail.
“Hello?”
She whispered.
“It’s me.”
Silence.
“I found the Russo estate.”
She looked at the photograph.
“I know who Rosa is.”
A voice answered.
“Then get out.”
Sadi’s blood went cold.
“Who is this?”
“You were never supposed to find them.”
The line disconnected.
Sadi stared at the phone.
Then she looked toward the mirror.
For the first time, she questioned every memory she had.
Her childhood.
Her foster homes.
The woman who used to call her “little bird.”
The locked suitcase she had been told never to open.
She had believed all those memories belonged to someone else.
Now she was not so sure.
At midnight, Dominic entered the room.
He saw her crying.
He stopped.
“What happened?”
Sadi wiped her face.
“Nothing.”
“You are terrible at lying.”
“So are you.”
He sat beside her.
She looked at him.
“Why did you marry me?”
He frowned.
“You know why.”
“No.”
She searched his face.
“Not really.”
Dominic sighed.
“At first, because it was the most efficient way to keep you alive.”
“And now?”
Silence.
Then he said it.
“Now I’m not sure.”
Her heart beat faster.
Before either could speak, a security guard rushed in.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“There’s someone in the north garden.”
Dominic stood.
“How many?”
“One.”
“Armed?”
“We don’t know.”
Dominic grabbed his weapon.
Sadi stood too.
“You stay here.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Sadi—”
“You said we were married.”
“Yes.”
“Then stop ordering me around like I’m an employee.”
Dominic stared at her.
Something in his expression softened.
“Stay behind me.”
They entered the garden.
At the far end, someone stood beneath the trees.
Dominic called out.
“Show yourself.”
The person stepped into the moonlight.
An old man.
White hair.
A scar running down his cheek.
He looked directly at Sadi.
Then he whispered:
“I knew you would come back.”
Dominic raised his gun.
“Who are you?”
The old man smiled.
May you like
“I’m the man who buried Sadi’s mother.”
Sadi stopped breathing.
