Chapter 4 - THE PROMISE MICHAEL KEPT
I did not cry in the storage unit.
That surprised me.
I waited until I was inside Dante’s SUV with the door closed.
Then I broke.
Quietly at first.
One hand over my mouth.
The other gripping Michael’s letter.
Dante sat beside me in the back seat.
Marco took the front.
Nobody spoke.
I hated crying around other people.
Grief feels private until it becomes too large for privacy.
Michael had lied.
He had hidden Nora.
Hidden Sofia.
Hidden danger.
But the worst part was not the secrets.
It was the promise.
He had apparently spent years protecting a child who was not his, and he never trusted me enough to tell me why.
I looked out the window.
“I would have helped.”
Dante answered softly.
“I know.”
“You do not know that.”
“I know enough.”
I turned.
“How?”
“Because you drove to work in a mansion connected to the man you blamed for your husband’s death because Lily needed stability.”
“That is survival.”
“You returned a wallet containing eight hundred dollars to a guest three months ago.”
I stared.
“How do you know that?”
“The guest complained security made him sign for it.”
“That is not heroic.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“It is consistent.”
That hurt in a different way.
I looked down at Michael’s letter.
“If he had told me, maybe he would still be alive.”
Dante said nothing.
I looked up.
“Say something.”
“You do not want what I would say.”
“Try me.”
He took a breath.
“Maybe.”
I stared.
“Maybe he would be alive.”
The honesty cut deeper than comfort.
“But maybe you would be dead too.”
I closed my eyes.
“I hate that answer.”
“So do I.”
The car continued toward the mansion.
I read Michael’s letter again.
If Dante Marchetti is still alive, trust him with the children.
Children.
Plural.
Lily.
Sofia.
I looked at Dante.
“Did Michael know about Luca?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My brother’s death was not secret.”
“No. I mean did he know details?”
Dante’s expression changed.
“I do not know.”
“You always say that.”
“I keep earning the opportunity.”
Despite myself, I almost smiled.
Then another thought arrived.
“Sofia.”
“What?”
“Where is she?”
Dante looked toward Marco.
Marco had already started searching.
“We have no record.”
“How old is she now?”
“Based on photographs, maybe eleven.”
Eleven.
A child somewhere.
A child who had spent her life hidden because adults had decided her name could kill her.
“Find her.”
Dante’s eyes met mine.
“I will.”
That sounded like a promise.
His promises scared me now.
“Do not say it unless you mean it.”
“I mean it.”
We returned to the mansion after dark.
Lily came running before the front doors fully closed.
“Mommy!”
I dropped my bag and caught her.
She wrapped both arms around my neck.
I held her too tightly.
“Mommy.”
“Sorry.”
“You squishing Bunny.”
I loosened.
“Bunny will recover.”
She looked at Dante.
“Did lemon work?”
He stopped.
I had forgotten.
The lemon still sat on his desk upstairs.
“Not yet.”
Lily frowned.
“You doing it wrong.”
“I suspected.”
Mrs. Alvarez covered a laugh with her hand.
Lily looked at me.
“Still sad?”
I kissed her forehead.
“A little.”
She thought.
Then handed me Bunny.
Apparently the rabbit had become therapeutic equipment.
I accepted him.
“Thank you.”
Lily smiled.
That night, Dante moved us into the main house.
I did not agree.
He did not exactly ask.
The argument happened in the upstairs guest corridor.
“I said no.”
“The staff apartment has one staircase.”
“It also has a lock.”
“So does a coffin.”
I stared.
“That is a terrible argument.”
“It is accurate.”
“Do you practice being impossible?”
“No.”
“You should. You have talent.”
Dante folded his arms.
“Two nights.”
“No.”
“Until we locate Nora.”
“No.”
“Until we know whether Caruso knows about Sofia.”
I stopped.
He saw the opening.
“That was unfair.”
“Yes.”
“You used the child.”
“Yes.”
I pointed at him.
“You know that is exactly what your father did.”
The sentence landed harder than I meant.
Dante’s face emptied.
I immediately regretted it.
“Dante—”
“No.”
He looked toward the guest room.
“You are right.”
That was worse.
“I did not mean—”
“You did.”
His voice remained calm.
“Fear does not excuse control.”
He had remembered.
My own words.
I exhaled.
“Two nights.”
His eyes lifted.
“Two?”
“Do not enjoy this.”
“I am not.”
“You look like you are.”
“I often look angry.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Lily ran down the hallway wearing socks and no shoes.
“Are we sleeping here?”
I looked at her.
“For two nights.”
She looked at the enormous bedroom behind me.
“Fancy sleepover.”
Dante’s mouth moved.
I pointed.
“Do not encourage her.”
He walked away.
At midnight, I heard a knock.
Not on my door.
At the end of the corridor.
Three quiet taps.
Security.
I stepped into the hall.
Dante was already there.
Barefoot.
Dark trousers.
White shirt.
No jacket.
For one disorienting second, he looked almost ordinary.
Then Marco appeared carrying a pistol.
Not ordinary.
“What happened?” I asked.
Dante looked at me.
“Go back inside.”
“No.”
“Sarah.”
“If this involves Lily—”
“It may.”
I crossed my arms.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Then nodded.
Marco held up a phone.
“We received a message through an old Marchetti emergency line.”
“From who?”
“Nora.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does it say?”
Marco handed the phone to Dante.
He read silently.
Then gave it to me.
SARAH, I AM SORRY.
MICHAEL PROMISED YOU WOULD HELP IF I COULD NOT.
SOFIA IS ALIVE.
VINCENT FOUND US.
DO NOT TRUST THE POLICE.
DO NOT TRUST ANYONE USING THE NAME CARUSO.
SHE IS AT ST. AGNES SCHOOL, ROOM 214.
PLEASE GET HER BEFORE 7 A.M.
My hands shook.
St. Agnes.
A boarding school two hours north of Chicago.
Dante said, “We leave now.”
I looked toward Lily’s room.
“No.”
“You stay.”
I turned sharply.
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“Sarah.”
“You are not taking some eleven-year-old girl out of a school based on a text message while I sit here.”
“That is exactly what is happening.”
“No.”
“She may be bait.”
“Then you definitely need somebody who knows what terrified children look like.”
He stared.
I continued.
“You walk into rooms and adults become silent.”
“That is useful.”
“Not with an eleven-year-old whose mother may be missing.”
His jaw tightened.
Marco looked between us.
“I hate to say this.”
Dante turned.
Marco continued.
“She has a point.”
“Everyone has discovered courage tonight.”
I almost smiled.
Then Lily’s door opened.
She stood there rubbing one eye.
“Mommy?”
I crossed to her.
“What, baby?”
“Bad dream.”
I picked her up.
She rested her head on my shoulder.
Dante watched.
His face changed.
He knew the answer before I gave it.
I could not leave Lily either.
Not now.
Not if someone might be watching us.
I looked at him.
“You go.”
Dante nodded.
“Marco stays here.”
Marco frowned.
“I usually—”
“Here.”
One word.
Decision made.
Dante looked at me.
“If Sofia is there, I bring her back.”
“To the mansion?”
“Yes.”
“Not to police?”
“Not until we know who compromised Michael.”
I hated that this made sense.
Dante left at 12:41.
I watched the black SUVs disappear through the gates.
Then I sat beside Lily until she slept.
At 3:18, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I nearly dropped it.
“Hello?”
No answer.
Then a child’s breathing.
My blood went cold.
“Who is this?”
A whisper.
“Sarah?”
I stood.
“Yes.”
“My name is Sofia.”
My knees weakened.
“Where are you?”
“I’m not at school.”
I looked toward the door.
Marco was downstairs.
“Where are you, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know.”
Her voice shook.
“A man came before Mr. Dante.”
My heart stopped.
“How do you know Dante?”
“Mom told me his name.”
A sound in the background.
Car engine.
Sofia whispered faster.
“Mom said if the Marchetti man comes, I can trust him.”
“Listen to me. Do not say anything else if someone can hear you.”
“I’m in a car trunk.”
I covered my mouth.
“Can you see anything?”
“No.”
“Can you hear?”
“Train.”
A horn sounded faintly through the line.
Then Sofia whispered the sentence that froze me.
“The man says he’s taking me to Lily.”
The call ended.
For three seconds, I stared at the dark phone screen.
Then I screamed Marco’s name.
He reached the hallway before I reached the stairs.
“What?”
“Sofia called me.”
His face changed.
“From where?”
“A trunk. She heard a train. The man said he was taking her to Lily.”
Marco was already dialing.
“Number?”
“Blocked.”
“We can still work it.”
He spoke into his radio, voice suddenly sharp.
“Lock the property. Nobody in or out. Move perimeter to level three.”
Doors closed downstairs.
I heard bolts.
Footsteps.
Radios.
Lily woke again.
“Mommy?”
I turned.
Fear has a strange discipline when your child can see your face.
I forced my voice steady.
“Go back to bed, baby.”
“Why people running?”
“They’re working.”
“Nighttime?”
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“Bad job.”
I almost laughed.
“Very bad job.”
Mrs. Alvarez appeared behind her and lifted Lily gently.
“I have her.”
I caught Lily’s hand.
“Stay with Mrs. Alvarez.”
“Bunny too?”
“Especially Bunny.”
She allowed herself to be carried away.
I turned back to Marco.
“Call Dante.”
“Trying.”
“No answer?”
“His convoy is in a dead zone north of the city.”
My stomach twisted.
A trap.
The school message had sent Dante away.
The phone call had told us why.
Someone wanted the mansion focused inward while Sofia moved toward us.
Or wanted us to believe she was.
“What trains run near St. Agnes?”
Marco opened a map.
“Freight lines west. Passenger line east.”
“The horn sounded close.”
“That does not narrow enough.”
I closed my eyes.
Think.
Sofia had said the man was taking her to Lily.
Why tell a kidnapped child the destination?
Because he wanted her frightened.
Or because he expected her to repeat it.
“It’s another message.”
Marco looked at me.
“The call.”
“What about it?”
“They let her keep the phone long enough to call me.”
He went still.
I continued.
“If they wanted silence, she would not have a phone.”
“They wanted us to hear.”
“Yes.”
Marco’s face hardened.
“So the mansion is the target.”
A security alarm chirped once from downstairs.
Not loud.
Almost polite.
Marco’s radio exploded with voices.
“South gate vehicle approaching.”
“Unregistered van.”
“Stop at outer barrier.”
I looked toward the window.
Headlights appeared beyond the trees.
The van stopped before the iron gates.
No one exited.
Marco raised his weapon.
“Stay here.”
I caught his sleeve.
“What if Sofia is inside?”
He looked at me.
That was the problem.
Nobody could open fire.
Nobody could ignore it.
The van’s rear doors suddenly opened.
A small figure climbed down.
A girl.
Dark hair.
No coat.
Bare feet.
Sofia.
She stood alone outside the locked gates.
Then the van accelerated away into the dark.
I ran before Marco could stop me.
By the time the gates opened, Sofia had collapsed onto the frozen driveway.
I reached her first.
She looked up at me with Michael’s secret and Nora’s terrified eyes.
“Sarah?”
“Yes.”
May you like
Her fingers closed around my sleeve.
“He said Lily is next.”
