Chapter 2 - THE FILE THAT SHOULD HAVE BURNED|
Marco did not sleep that night.
At two in the morning, he sat alone in his private study while Lily slept on a sofa beside the fireplace. Elena had found the girl clean clothes, warm blankets, and a plate of food. Lily had eaten half a sandwich and refused everything else.
She had not spoken a single word.
Marco watched her through the reflection in his desk's glass surface.
There was something familiar about her stillness. Isabella had possessed the same stubborn way of holding herself when she was frightened. She would rather endure pain than let another person see it.
He hated that memory.
He hated himself more for remembering it so clearly.
"Boss."
His chief of security, Victor Hale, entered carrying a tablet.
"I checked the gate footage. The girl arrived at 6:12 p.m. A black sedan dropped her near the eastern entrance. The driver wore a mask."
"License plate?"
"Stolen. The vehicle was abandoned two blocks away."
Marco leaned back.
"Find the driver."
Victor hesitated.
"There's something else. The office call Elena mentioned came from inside the mansion."
Marco's eyes narrowed.
"Whose extension?"
"Yours."
"Impossible."
"The call was made using your private terminal at 5:48 p.m."
Marco had been at a meeting across town at that time. Only three people possessed access to the terminal: Marco, Victor, and Sophia.
He looked toward Lily.
"Who examined the death report today?"
"Your accountant requested the file this afternoon. He said he needed it for an insurance review."
"Name."
"Arthur Bell."
Marco picked up his phone.
"Bring him here."
Victor left.
Minutes later, Marco opened the old report. The official documents listed Isabella's cause of death as smoke inhalation, with the child's death recorded as a secondary casualty.
But the signatures were wrong.
The attending physician had signed with a name Marco recognized from an earlier investigation. That doctor had lost his medical license four years before Isabella's death.
Marco turned the page.
A photograph showed the burned remains of the clinic's nursery. The picture had been cropped so tightly that the emergency exit was missing.
He remembered visiting the site the morning after the fire.
He remembered the smell.
He remembered Sophia standing beside him, holding his arm while telling him there was nothing left to save.
He had believed her.
A small movement came from the sofa.
Lily was awake.
She watched Marco examine the documents. Then she slid off the cushions, walked toward the desk, and tapped the photograph with one finger.
"What is it?" he asked gently.
She pointed at a dark shape near the bottom corner.
Marco enlarged the image.
A child's shoe.
Not a shoe from the burned nursery. It was a small leather boot with a silver buckle.
Lily pulled up the hem of her pajamas.
On her left ankle was a thin scar.
Marco's heart began to pound.
He remembered that scar from a hospital photograph taken when Isabella was seven months pregnant. The doctor had warned them that their unborn daughter might require surgery immediately after birth.
But the child in the photograph had never been identified.
Lily pointed to the scar, then to the picture.
"Was that you?" Marco whispered.
She nodded.
The study door opened.
Arthur Bell entered with two guards behind him. The accountant was a narrow man in his sixties, usually immaculate, but tonight his collar was crooked and his face shone with sweat.
Marco placed the photograph on the desk.
"Tell me why the death report contains a photograph of my daughter's shoe."
Arthur stared at it.
"I don't know."
Marco stood.
"Try again."
"I was instructed to alter certain records. I was told it was for your protection."
"By whom?"
Arthur's eyes shifted toward Lily.
The girl immediately moved behind Marco's chair.
Arthur swallowed.
"By Mrs. Moretti."
Sophia.
Marco did not raise his voice.
"What did she ask you to change?"
"The nursery records. The medical report. The insurance documents."
"Was my daughter alive after the fire?"
Arthur began to cry.
"Yes."
The word seemed to empty the room of oxygen.
Marco gripped the desk.
"Where is she?"
"I don't know. I swear to God, I don't know."
Arthur reached into his coat and placed a small envelope on the desk.
"Mrs. Moretti gave me this six years ago. She told me to destroy it if anyone ever questioned the report."
Marco opened it.
Inside was a hospital bracelet bearing the name Isabella Duca.
Beneath it was a second bracelet.
The name on the second bracelet had been crossed out.
Lily Duca.
Marco looked at the girl.
She was crying silently.
For the first time since arriving at the mansion, she reached for him willingly.
He gathered her into his arms.
Arthur whispered something that made Marco freeze.
"There's one more thing, sir. The woman who took your daughter from the clinic wasn't Sophia."
"Who was it?"
Arthur closed his eyes.
"Your wife."
Marco stared at him.
"My wife was dead."
May you like
Arthur shook his head.
"That's what they wanted you to believe."
