Chapter 4 - TWELVE LESSONS, ONE LIE
The fourth lesson began with an empty chair.
Rose's chair.
Claire had placed it beside the studio mirror because Rose insisted on watching Gabriel improve.
But that Thursday, Rose never arrived.
Gabriel checked his phone three times.
No message.
Claire noticed.
“She's late.”
“She isn't late.”
“How do you know?”
“She is never late.”
Claire smiled.
“You sound like a grandson.”
“I am a grandson.”
“Sometimes I forget.”
He looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because when you're angry, you look like a man who doesn't have a family.”
Gabriel's smile faded.
The music started.
They danced without speaking.
Halfway through the lesson, Gabriel's phone vibrated.
Matteo.
ROSE IS MISSING.
Gabriel stopped moving.
Claire immediately knew.
“What happened?”
“Rose.”
“What?”
“She didn't come home.”
Claire's face went pale.
“Maybe she went somewhere.”
“She left her phone.”
“Then find her.”
Gabriel was already reaching for his coat.
Claire caught his hand.
“Gabriel.”
He looked down.
“Take me.”
“No.”
“You're not leaving me behind.”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“Someone threatened me yesterday.”
“That makes it exactly why you stay here.”
Claire's voice hardened.
“You don't get to decide what happens to me just because you're scared.”
He stared at her.
The sentence struck somewhere deep.
She softened.
“I know you're trying to protect me.”
“I am.”
“But protection isn't the same as deciding for someone.”
His expression changed.
He remembered the first lesson.
You're holding a person, not controlling one.
Claire squeezed his hand.
“Take me.”
He finally nodded.
They drove to Rose's house.
The front door was open.
Gabriel entered first.
The living room looked untouched.
Too untouched.
Claire followed.
“Rose?”
No answer.
Then Gabriel noticed something on the kitchen table.
A white envelope.
His name was written across it.
He opened it.
Inside was a single sheet.
YOU HAVE TWELVE LESSONS.
YOU WILL FINISH ALL TWELVE.
Claire read over his shoulder.
“That's creepy.”
Gabriel turned the page.
A second sentence appeared beneath it.
THE THIRTEENTH LESSON WILL BE YOUR CHOICE.
Claire frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Gabriel didn't know.
They searched the house.
Rose's coat was gone.
Her purse was gone.
But her medication remained on the counter.
That bothered Gabriel more than the missing phone.
Rose never left home without it.
Then Claire noticed the kitchen clock.
It had stopped at 4:13.
“Was it broken?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“It worked yesterday.”
Matteo entered.
“Boss.”
Gabriel turned.
“Any sign of her?”
“Her car is gone.”
“Plate?”
“Found.”
“Location?”
Matteo looked at Claire.
“The old lake house.”
Gabriel went still.
“That house was sold.”
“No, boss.”
Matteo lowered his voice.
“Someone has been maintaining it.”
They drove through falling snow.
The lake house stood beyond a narrow road lined with bare trees.
Gabriel hadn't seen it since he was nineteen.
His father used to bring him there.
Business meetings.
Punishments.
Arguments.
Secrets.
Claire looked out the window.
“You know this place.”
“Yes.”
“What happened here?”
“My father taught me that fear was useful.”
She looked at him.
“And did you believe him?”
“For a long time.”
They entered.
Rose was sitting at a table near the fireplace.
Alive.
Calm.
Drinking tea.
Gabriel nearly lost his temper.
“Rose.”
She looked up.
“Hello, darling.”
“You disappeared.”
“I was invited.”
“By whom?”
A man stepped from the shadows.
Adrian Vale.
Claire froze.
Gabriel moved between them.
Adrian raised his hands.
“I didn't hurt her.”
“You'd better start explaining.”
Adrian nodded.
“Your father ordered Thomas Donovan killed.”
Claire stopped breathing.
Gabriel stared.
“What?”
“Thomas discovered your father's financial records.”
Claire's voice shook.
“My father didn't leave us?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Adrian looked at Gabriel.
“He tried to expose him.”
Gabriel felt sick.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because your father told everyone you would become his heir.”
Rose looked down.
“He threatened Claire's family if the truth came out.”
Claire's eyes filled.
“So my father died because of your family.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“No.”
Her expression broke.
“Gabriel.”
“My family did this.”
He swallowed.
“But I didn't.”
She stepped backward.
“You didn't know.”
“No.”
“Then why does it still feel like you did?”
He had no answer.
Adrian placed a second envelope on the table.
“This belonged to Thomas.”
Claire opened it.
Inside was a letter.
My Claire,
If you're reading this, I'm already gone.
I need you to know one thing.
I never abandoned you.
I loved you every day I was away.
And if the Moretti family ever comes near you, remember this:
Not every Moretti is his father.
Claire covered her mouth.
Gabriel looked away.
The room felt smaller.
Rose began to cry.
“I should have told you years ago.”
Gabriel turned.
“Why didn't you?”
“Because your father threatened Claire's mother.”
Claire looked at Gabriel.
“And now?”
Gabriel stepped toward her.
“Now nobody decides your life but you.”
She stared at him.
Then she whispered, “I need time.”
He nodded.
“You'll have it.”
Outside, the lake wind struck his face.
Matteo approached.
“Boss.”
Gabriel looked back at the house.
“What?”
“We found something else.”
He handed Gabriel a photograph.
It showed Thomas Donovan standing beside Gabriel's father.
But in the background was a third man.
Gabriel recognized him.
Adrian Vale.
Gabriel looked toward the house.
“That's impossible.”
Matteo shook his head.
“Why?”
“Because Adrian told me he was trying to protect Thomas.”
Gabriel stared at the photograph.
Then he realized the truth was even worse.
Someone had been lying for twenty years.
And he no longer knew which side Adrian was on.
That night, Gabriel returned to the studio alone.
Claire had gone home with Rose.
He stood beneath the mirrors and stared at his reflection.
The man staring back looked exactly like the person Chicago feared.
But for the first time, Gabriel wondered whether fear had always been the easiest mask to wear.
He heard the door open.
Claire stepped inside.
“I thought you went home.”
“I did.”
“Then why are you here?”
She walked toward him.
“Because I couldn't sleep.”
He nodded.
“Neither could I.”
She looked at the mirrors.
“Your father.”
“Yes.”
“Do you hate him?”
Gabriel thought about it.
“I hate what he did.”
“That's not the same answer.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I loved him once.”
Claire nodded.
“I loved mine.”
Silence.
Then she held out her hand.
“Dance?”
Gabriel stared at it.
“After everything?”
“Especially after everything.”
He took her hand.
They danced in the empty studio.
No music.
Just the soft sound of their shoes against the floor.
Halfway through the first turn, Claire whispered, “Whatever happens, don't become him.”
Gabriel tightened his fingers around hers.
“I won't.”
Neither of them saw the tiny camera blinking above the exit.
Someone was watching.
Again.
Before they left the lake house, Rose asked Claire to stay behind.
Gabriel stepped outside.
He knew the conversation was not for him.
Through the window, he could see Rose holding Claire's hands.
Whatever she said made Claire cry.
When Claire finally came outside, her eyes were red.
“What did she tell you?”
“That my mother loved you.”
Gabriel frowned.
“She didn't know me.”
“She knew the kind of man your father wanted you to become.”
He looked away.
Claire continued.
“She also told me that my mother once met you.”
Gabriel turned.
“When?”
“Once.”
“Where?”
“A charity event.”
He searched his memory.
He had been young.
There had been music.
His father had introduced him to dozens of people.
A woman with copper-red hair had smiled at him.
He remembered because she had asked him whether he liked dancing.
He had said no.
Claire laughed softly.
“You've always been stubborn.”
“I was twelve.”
“Still.”
He smiled.
Then he saw something on the ground near the lake.
A cigarette.
Fresh.
He picked it up.
Matteo approached.
“Someone was here.”
Gabriel nodded.
“How long?”
“Minutes.”
They searched the property.
No one.
But on the dock, they found a second envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Claire as a child.
On the back:
WE WATCHED HER GROW.
Claire stared at it.
“I'm done.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“With what?”
“Being watched.”
She tore the photograph in half.
Then in quarters.
Gabriel watched.
“You okay?”
“No.”
She wiped her eyes.
“But I'm angry.”
“Good.”
She looked at him.
“You approve of anger?”
“I approve of you feeling something that belongs to you.”
That answer made her smile.
They returned to the city.
That evening, Gabriel canceled every meeting.
He sat in his office with Claire and spread the documents across the table.
She looked at the wall covered with photographs.
“This is your father's archive?”
“Yes.”
“He documented everyone.”
“Apparently.”
Claire studied one photograph.
“That's my mother.”
Gabriel came closer.
“She was at a gala.”
“When?”
“Three months before your father disappeared.”
Claire pointed at the corner.
“Who is that?”
Gabriel zoomed in.
Victor Dane.
Behind him stood a man Claire didn't recognize.
Gabriel did.
“Adrian.”
Claire stared.
“They were together.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did Adrian pretend to be protecting my father?”
Gabriel didn't answer.
A phone rang.
Rose.
Gabriel answered.
“Rose?”
Her voice trembled.
“Gabriel, don't trust the first story Adrian tells you.”
“What story?”
“The one about Thomas.”
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because Thomas is not the only person who survived.”
The line went dead.
Claire looked at him.
“What did she mean?”
“I don't know.”
A new message appeared.
Unknown number.
MEET ME THURSDAY. BRING CLAIRE.
Gabriel showed her.
Claire stared.
“They know our schedule.”
“Yes.”
“Then Thursday is important.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Very.”
She looked around the room.
“Maybe Rose chose Thursdays because she knew someone was watching.”
“Maybe she wanted us to follow the pattern.”
Claire thought.
“Your grandmother isn't just protecting us.”
“What?”
“She is testing us.”
Gabriel frowned.
“For what?”
Claire smiled faintly.
“To see whether we can tell the difference between fear and instinct.”
He looked at her.
“And?”
“I think we're learning.”
Gabriel reached for her hand.
“Then Thursday.”
“Thursday.”
May you like
Neither knew that the next lesson would not happen on a dance floor.
It would happen in a room beneath one.
