Chapter 6 - THE LETTER IN HER FATHER'S COAT|
Norah had kept very few things from her old life.
A photograph of her parents at the beach. A chipped blue mug her father used every morning. A wool coat he had worn during the last winter of his life.
The coat had been stored in a box beneath her bed for two years.
She had never been able to throw it away.
That night, after the household had settled, Norah took the box from beneath the bed and opened it.
The coat smelled faintly of cedar and old paper.
She ran her fingers along the lining, remembering the last time she had seen her father wearing it. He had stood in their kitchen, pale and frightened, trying to smile as though nothing was wrong.
“Don't worry about me, sweetheart,” he had told her.
She had been twenty-two.
She had believed him.
Now, with Sloane's warning still echoing in her mind, she examined the coat more carefully.
A small tear near the inside pocket caught her attention.
She reached inside and felt something stiff beneath the lining.
Her heart began to pound.
Using a pair of scissors, she carefully opened the seam.
A folded envelope slipped into her hand.
Her name was written across the front in her father's handwriting.
Norah sat down.
For several minutes, she could not bring herself to open it.
Then she unfolded the paper.
My dearest Norah,
If you're reading this, something has happened to me, and I have failed to protect you from the consequences of my mistakes.
I need you to know that I never borrowed money from Roman Costa. I worked for his organization as a bookkeeper, and I discovered that money was being moved through companies that did not exist.
I confronted the wrong person.
I have copies of the records, but I cannot trust anyone with them. If something happens to me, look for the blue ledger in the place where your mother kept her wedding dress.
Do not trust Victor Costa.
And whatever you do, do not let them convince you that your father's death was an accident.
Norah read the letter until the words blurred.
Her father had not died because of gambling debt.
Someone had used that story to trap her.
Someone had taken two years of her life.
Someone had made her believe she deserved the punishment.
A knock sounded at the door.
Norah hid the letter beneath her pillow.
“Who is it?”
“It's Roman.”
She opened the door only a few inches.
He stood in the corridor without his jacket, his expression unusually serious.
“May I come in?”
Norah almost laughed.
The most powerful man in the house was asking permission to enter her tiny bedroom.
“Yes.”
Roman stepped inside and immediately noticed the open box.
“Your father's belongings?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find something?”
Norah hesitated.
She could tell him about the letter. She could demand answers.
But she had spent two years learning that information could be more dangerous than a weapon.
“I found a coat.”
Roman did not challenge her.
Instead, he looked around the room.
The narrow bed. The small desk. The single photograph of Norah's parents beside the window.
“You shouldn't have been made to live like this,” he said.
Norah folded her arms.
“Then why did you let it happen?”
He accepted the question without defending himself.
“Because I didn't look closely enough.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No,” Roman said. “It isn't.”
For a moment, they stood in silence.
Then he spoke.
“I've ordered a full review of the debt records. You won't owe another dollar.”
Norah's eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall.
“My father told me the truth was worth protecting.”
Roman looked at her.
“What truth?”
She held his gaze.
“The truth about why he died.”
Before Roman could respond, a crash sounded downstairs.
Then a guard shouted.
Marcus's voice followed.
“Boss! The west entrance!”
Roman moved toward the door.
Norah caught his sleeve.
“Roman.”
He turned.
She had never called him by his first name before.
“I found something,” she whispered. “And I think someone knows.”
Roman's expression changed instantly.
“Stay here.”
He hurried into the corridor.
Norah locked the door behind him, then retrieved the letter from beneath her pillow.
A second sheet of paper had slipped from the envelope.
May you like
It contained a single sentence.
The blue ledger is not the only copy. The original evidence is hidden where Roman Costa buried his first secret.
