Chapter 3 - The Second Copy
I did not sleep.
Ava did.
Babies have the astonishing ability to ignore financial conspiracies, criminal aliases, and terrifying phone calls as long as someone keeps them warm and fed.
At seven, I sat beside the hotel window watching snow fall over downtown Chicago while listing every object Caleb had ever left behind.
Clothes.
A broken watch.
Two paperback novels.
Coffee mug.
Baby items.
An old laptop charger.
Recipe book.
Photograph frame.
Then I remembered the camera.
Not a camera exactly.
A cheap digital baby monitor Caleb bought before leaving.
I had stopped using it because the battery died constantly.
It was still inside a kitchen cabinet.
My apartment remained a police scene.
Detective Alexis Monroe met us there.
Reed stayed away because she had specifically requested he not contaminate the search with “half of Chicago’s most interesting associates.”
He seemed offended.
I enjoyed that.
Monroe found the monitor.
Technicians opened the battery compartment.
Nothing.
Then one analyst noticed the memory-card slot.
A microSD card was inside.
I stared.
“I never put that there.”
“Was the monitor capable of recording?”
“Yes,” the technician said.
“But this card contains files unrelated to video.”
My stomach turned.
“Another copy.”
Maybe.
It took hours.
The card contained encrypted financial records matching portions of the locker drive.
Caleb had split information between two devices.
The data documented years of payments routed through freight companies, city inspection offices, restaurants, construction firms, and private security agencies.
Some names meant nothing to me.
One meant something to Reed.
Aldo Ferris.
When I told him, the silence lasted too long.
“Who is he?”
“Competitor.”
“Mafia competitor?”
“Nora.”
“Don't Nora me.”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Caleb had not simply stolen money.
He had collected evidence capable of destroying people on both sides.
Reed explained later in the private restaurant office.
“Aldo built influence through waste hauling, construction, and city permits.”
“Sounds charming.”
“He isn't.”
“And Caleb worked for him?”
“Eventually.”
“After stealing from you?”
“After stealing from several people, including some connected to me.”
“Why keep evidence?”
“Insurance.”
I stared.
“So he dated me while carrying criminal evidence.”
“Probably.”
“And hid part inside things meant for our baby.”
Reed’s face hardened.
“Yes.”
I wanted to throw something.
Instead I started crying.
Quietly.
I hated crying in front of him.
Reed did not touch me.
That mattered.
He simply slid a box of tissues across the desk.
“I thought he left because I wasn't enough.”
Reed’s expression changed.
I laughed bitterly.
“For eight months I hated myself because he had a new woman in Arizona and I was counting coins for formula.”
“Nora.”
“I wondered what she had that I didn't.”
“He didn't leave because of you.”
“I know that now.”
“Good.”
“That doesn't erase the months I didn't.”
Silence.
Then Reed said something unexpected.
“My father left when I was nine.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“Walked out.”
“Why?”
“Another woman. Another city.”
Reed looked toward the office window.
“My mother worked two jobs after that. Diner mornings. Hotel laundry nights.”
The feared Reed Callaway had once been a child watching a mother calculate grocery money.
“She used to bring you?”
“When nobody could watch me.”
I remembered the supply closet.
His jacket beneath my back.
“You knew.”
“Not exactly.”
“You knew what it looked like.”
“Yes.”
Something in me softened against my will.
Then the office door opened.
Elena stood there.
Her eyes landed on Ava’s carrier beside my chair.
Her face changed.
“What is that baby doing here?”
Reed looked at her.
“That baby has a name.”
Elena froze.
“Mr. Callaway.”
“You told Nora a third absence would cost her job.”
Elena looked at me.
Then back.
“I enforce standards.”
“Whose?”
“Restaurant standards.”
“No.”
Reed’s voice remained calm.
“My policy gives managers discretion for documented family emergencies.”
“She abuses it.”
“I abuse what?”
“Flexibility.”
My face burned.
Elena continued.
“She disappears. She's late. She has personal drama constantly.”
I stood.
“My child is not personal drama.”
“I didn't say—”
“You did.”
Reed looked between us.
Then:
“Elena, give Tommy your keys.”
Her face drained.
“You're firing me?”
“I’m suspending you pending review.”
“For doing my job?”
“For lying about company policy and potentially retaliating against staff.”
She stared at me with pure hatred.
“This is because of her.”
Reed answered:
“This is because I asked payroll why five servers show tip adjustments they never signed.”
Silence.
Elena’s face became white.
I looked at Reed.
He knew more than he had told me.
Tommy appeared behind her.
“Keys.”
Elena threw them onto the desk.
“You'll regret this.”
Then she looked directly at me.
“You especially.”
She walked out.
A chill moved through me.
Reed picked up his phone.
“What?”
I asked.
“Security.”
“Why?”
“Because people who threaten employees after being suspended don't get to wander through back hallways.”
He was right.
Still, I hated how quickly danger appeared around everything.
That afternoon police retained both data devices.
Federal investigators became involved.
Caleb sent no more messages.
For almost twenty-four hours.
Then at 5:03 the following evening, my phone received a photograph.
Ava’s daycare application.
I had never submitted one.
Beneath it:
You need childcare, don’t you?
My stomach dropped.
Then a second message.
Meet me tomorrow. Alone. Bring the copy.
Reed read it.
“No.”
I glared.
“We discussed orders.”
He corrected instantly.
“I think going alone would be dangerous.”
“Better.”
“Nora.”
“I’m not going.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
“I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were.”
“But he knows I need childcare.”
Reed’s face changed.
“How?”
I understood at the same moment.
Very few people knew.
Mrs. Perez.
My neighbors.
Callaway’s management.
Elena.
We looked at each other.
Reed called Tommy.
“Find Elena.”
Tommy called back eighteen minutes later.
“She’s gone.”
“Home?”
“No.”
“Phone?”
“Off.”
Reed’s eyes hardened.
“When did she leave the building yesterday?”
“Six seventeen.”
“Vehicle?”
“Gray Honda.”
The security photograph of Caleb’s sedan had been gray.
Tommy checked street cameras.
At 6:24, Elena’s Honda pulled beside Caleb’s car three blocks from Callaway’s.
She got in.
For eleven months, I thought Elena simply hated me because I was poor, tired, and inconvenient.
May you like
Now the woman who controlled my schedule had been meeting with Ava’s father.
And Caleb had known exactly when I would be working the day he came back.
