Chapter 10 - THE NAME HIDDEN IN THE FILE|
Marco did not sleep that night.
He had spent fifteen years working for Vincent Moretti, protecting the organization from threats both real and imagined. He knew how to recognize surveillance, how to identify a compromised account, and how to distinguish a warning from an attempt to frighten someone into silence.
The message sent to Claire was a warning.
He knew because he had seen similar messages before.
At 6:30 the next morning, he met an independent attorney in a downtown office. He brought copies of the emails, the photograph, and the documents referencing Isabella's accident.
The attorney, a careful woman named Rachel Dunn, reviewed them without interruption.
“These documents raise serious questions,” she said. “But we need to establish where they came from and whether they are authentic.”
“Can you help me do that?”
“Yes, provided you understand that if they reveal criminal conduct, I may be obligated to advise you about reporting it.”
Marco nodded.
“I understand.”
Rachel pointed to one email.
“Who is Anthony Moretti?”
“Vincent's uncle. He advised the family for years.”
“And this clinic?”
“I don't know.”
“Then start there. Don't access records illegally. Don't threaten anyone. We need evidence that can withstand scrutiny.”
Marco left with a list of lawful investigative steps and the uncomfortable realization that the truth might implicate people he had protected for years.
Meanwhile, in New York, Claire received a call from Jonathan.
“I've reviewed the documents you described,” he said. “For now, keep them separate from your divorce materials. We don't want your marital case tangled in allegations we haven't verified.”
“Understood.”
“Have you received any other suspicious messages?”
“Yes.”
“Save everything. Don't respond.”
Claire agreed, then opened her laptop and began researching Isabella Hayes.
The public records were sparse. Isabella had been twenty-six when she died. Newspaper articles described a late-night collision on a rural road outside Chicago. The vehicle had left the road during heavy rain, and the body had supposedly been identified by dental records.
The official report named no other occupants.
But one article contained a detail Claire found strange.
A witness had reported seeing a second vehicle near the scene.
The witness later withdrew the statement.
Claire searched the witness's name.
Thomas Bell.
He had worked as a mechanic in a suburb north of Chicago and had died two years earlier. No obituary explained the circumstances.
She wrote the information down and sent it to Rachel through Marco.
Then she searched Sophia Reynolds.
Sophia's professional history appeared ordinary: university, corporate internships, executive assistant positions, then Vincent's company. But an old profile listed a different middle name.
Sophia Marie Hayes.
Claire sat back.
She checked the photograph again. Sophia's resemblance to Isabella was striking, but the family connection was not proof of anything. They could have been cousins. They could have shared a parent. Or the resemblance could have been coincidental.
Still, the clinic photograph and the changed name made the possibility difficult to ignore.
Claire called Marco.
“Did you know Sophia's middle name was Hayes?”
“No.”
“Find out whether Isabella had any siblings.”
“I'll look into it.”
“And Marco?”
“Yes?”
“Don't do anything reckless. If this is connected to a crime, let the authorities handle it.”
He promised he would.
That afternoon, Claire attended her first prenatal appointment in New York. The doctor confirmed that everything appeared normal and discussed the next stages of care.
When the ultrasound image appeared on the screen, Claire felt her throat tighten.
There was a tiny heartbeat.
The sound filled the room, steady and astonishing.
For several seconds, she forgot about Vincent, Sophia, Anthony, and the threatening messages.
She thought only of the life growing inside her.
Afterward, she placed the new image beside the old one in her handbag.
Two photographs. Two moments. One future.
Outside the clinic, her phone rang.
Vincent.
She nearly declined it, but something in her wanted to hear whether his voice had changed.
“Claire,” he said immediately. “I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Did you receive anything from Marco?”
Her blood ran cold.
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because he's been acting strangely, and I found out he contacted you before you left.”
“Then ask him.”
“I am asking you.”
She tightened her grip on the phone.
“Vincent, I have nothing to discuss with you outside the divorce.”
“Is this about Sophia?”
“No.”
“Then what is it about?”
Claire looked toward the street, where people hurried past carrying coffee and umbrellas.
“It's about the fact that you still think every unanswered question is a challenge to your authority.”
She ended the call.
For a moment, she stood completely still.
Then she sent Jonathan a message about Vincent's question.
May you like
The investigation had barely begun, yet someone was already trying to control what she knew.
And Claire was beginning to suspect that the secret behind Isabella's death was much larger than a family tragedy.
