Chapter 2 - A FATHER’S SILENT FURY
Lorenzo turned toward the door,
his shoulder hitting the wood with a dull thud.
He tried the handle,
but it remained frozen,
a piece of useless brass.
“Open the door!”
he roared,
the sound vibrating through the nursery.
There was no response from the hallway,
only a chilling,
dead silence.
I looked down at Leo,
who had finally drifted into a peaceful sleep,
his stomach full for the first time.
I carefully unlatched him,
my hands shaking as I buttoned my uniform.
Every movement felt like an insult to the memory of my own child,
but I knew I had to be strong.
“They can’t hear you,”
I said,
sitting back on the small nursing stool.
“The walls are soundproofed,”
“you insisted on it yourself.”
Lorenzo cursed,
striking the door with the palm of his hand.
He looked back at me,
his eyes scanning my face for any sign of betrayal.
“Who are you?”
he asked,
the gun now tucked into the back of his waistband.
“I’m Elena,”
I replied,
“one of your maids.”
“I’ve worked here for six months.”
He shook his head,
walking toward the window.
“A maid doesn't risk her life to feed a Rossi heir.”
“A maid doesn't recognize sedatives in a wineglass.”
I stood up,
placing Leo back into his crib with the tenderness of a mother.
“I’m a woman who lost everything,”
I said,
my voice cold and flat.
“And I’m a woman who knows what it looks like when someone is being murdered.”
Lorenzo reached the window and tried to pull it open,
but it was locked from the outside by a security shutter.
The mansion was turning into a prison,
room by room.
He pulled a radio from his belt,
clicking the button repeatedly.
“Marco,
come in,”
he barked into the device.
“This is Rossi,”
“do you copy?”
Only static answered him,
a harsh,
white noise that filled the room.
He threw the radio against the wall,
where it shattered into pieces of plastic and wire.
“They’ve jammed the signal,”
he muttered,
running a hand through his dark hair.
He looked at the sleeping nurse,
then walked over and grabbed her by the hair.
He shook her violently,
but she remained limp,
her breathing heavy and deep.
“She’s out for hours,”
I said,
watching him.
“Whatever they gave her was strong.”
Lorenzo turned back to me,
his presence overwhelming in the small space.
“The voice,”
he said,
“it called your name.”
“How does the person on the other side of that door know you?”
I felt my heart skip a beat,
a cold dread pooling in my stomach.
“I don't know,”
I lied,
though a face was already forming in my mind.
A face I had hoped to never see again.
“You’re lying,”
Lorenzo stated,
taking a step toward me.
“I can see the fear in your eyes,”
“and it’s not just fear of me.”
The lights in the nursery flickered,
May you like
then went out completely,
leaving us in total darkness.
