Chapter 1 - The Towel on Lucy’s Head
Lucy Moretti sat on the paper-covered exam table with a white towel pulled over her head.
She was six years old, small for her age, and dressed in the navy cardigan, pale-blue polo, gray skirt, and black Mary Janes she wore to St. Catherine’s Academy. Normally, she would have been swinging her legs or asking Dr. Patel whether the skeleton poster had a name.
Today, her feet hung still.
Claire Moretti stood beside her and held her hand.
“Sweetheart,” Claire said softly, “Dr. Patel needs to see.”
Lucy tightened her fingers around the towel.
“No.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“I look ugly.”
The words hit Claire harder than she expected.
She crouched until they were eye level.
“You could come in here wearing a purple chicken on your head and you would still be the prettiest little person I know.”
Lucy almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she whispered, “Grandma said girls who don’t behave don’t deserve pretty hair.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
She had heard the sentence twice already.
The first time, she thought she had misunderstood.
The second time, she nearly called Gabriel and screamed into the phone.
Instead, she had driven Lucy directly to the pediatric clinic.
“Grandma was wrong,” Claire said.
Lucy stared at her.
“Daddy always says Grandma knows everything.”
That sentence hurt for a different reason.
Claire straightened.
“Daddy can be wrong too.”
The door opened and Dr. Naomi Patel stepped in.
She was in her forties, calm, sharp-eyed, and one of the few people in Chicago who had never seemed impressed by the Moretti name.
“Hi, Lucy.”
Lucy looked down.
Dr. Patel glanced at Claire.
“Ready?”
Claire nodded.
Lucy was not.
So they waited.
No threats.
No counting to three.
No telling her to be brave.
Finally, Lucy lifted the towel.
Claire had seen the damage before.
It still shocked her.
Most of Lucy’s long honey-brown hair fell normally over her shoulders, but a broad irregular strip had been shaved from the top of her forehead almost to the crown. The skin beneath was pale and slightly irritated. Tiny cut hairs remained stuck near the edges.
It looked less like a haircut than a punishment.
Dr. Patel’s face changed.
Not dramatically.
That was somehow worse.
“Lucy,” she said, “did somebody do this to you?”
Lucy nodded.
“Who?”
Her eyes immediately went to Claire.
Claire squeezed her hand.
“You can tell her.”
“Grandma.”
Dr. Patel took a slow breath.
“Did Grandma ask you if she could cut your hair?”
Lucy shook her head.
“Did you ask her to stop?”
“Yes.”
“What happened when you asked?”
“She held my shoulders.”
Claire closed her eyes.
For one second.
No more.
She needed to stay useful.
Dr. Patel examined Lucy’s scalp gently. There were no deep cuts, no signs of serious injury, but the skin had been scraped in several places.
“Any headache?”
“No.”
“Did she hit your head?”
“No.”
“Pull your hair?”
Lucy nodded.
“Before the clippers?”
“Yes.”
Claire’s phone buzzed.
GABRIEL.
She declined the call.
It rang again.
Then someone knocked hard on the clinic door.
Claire knew before it opened.
Gabriel Moretti entered first.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, sleeves rolled to his forearms, the top button of his pale-blue dress shirt open. He had left a meeting downtown so fast that one of his security men was still outside asking reception where he had gone.
Behind him came Evelyn Moretti.
Gabriel’s mother.
Sixty-eight.
Silver hair arranged into an elegant low twist.
Pearl necklace.
Gray silk blouse.
Black trousers.
Cream leather handbag.
She looked more offended than worried.
“What is this?” Evelyn demanded.
Lucy immediately reached for the towel.
Claire stopped her hand gently.
“No, baby.”
Gabriel saw his daughter.
He froze.
His eyes moved from the shaved strip to Claire.
“What happened?”
Evelyn answered first.
“She got gum in her hair.”
Lucy’s eyes widened.
Claire looked at her mother-in-law.
“You want to try that again?”
Evelyn’s mouth tightened.
“It was impossible to remove.”
Lucy whispered, “There wasn’t gum.”
Gabriel looked toward her.
“What?”
“There wasn’t gum, Daddy.”
Evelyn stepped closer.
“She is six. She was hysterical.”
Dr. Patel moved between Evelyn and the exam table.
“Please stay where you are.”
Evelyn stared at her.
“I am her grandmother.”
“And this is my exam room.”
Gabriel looked at Claire.
“Tell me.”
Claire reached into the large beige tote hanging from her shoulder.
She pulled out a black electric hair clipper.
A cord trailed behind it.
Gabriel’s expression darkened.
“Where did you get that?”
“Lucy’s overnight bag.”
Evelyn’s composure cracked.
Only for half a second.
“That is not mine.”
Lucy said, “It is.”
Claire turned the clipper in her hand.
“Lucy told me this is what you used.”
Evelyn laughed.
“A child identifies every black appliance as the same thing.”
Claire plugged the clipper into the wall.
The buzzing sound filled the white room.
Lucy flinched.
Gabriel noticed.
So did Dr. Patel.
Claire saw Evelyn notice too.
“That sound,” Claire said quietly. “She knows that sound.”
“Turn it off,” Evelyn snapped.
Claire stepped toward her.
Gabriel’s voice dropped.
“Claire.”
But Claire had spent fourteen months swallowing Evelyn’s little corrections.
Lucy’s skirt was too short.
Lucy’s laugh was too loud.
Lucy held a fork incorrectly.
Claire worked too much.
Claire was too emotional.
Claire needed to understand that Moretti children were raised differently.
Now half her daughter’s hair was on somebody’s bathroom floor.
Claire lifted the clipper.
Evelyn took one step back.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Claire looked at her.
“You told a six-year-old humiliation teaches respect.”
Gabriel moved forward.
“Claire.”
She touched the clipper to the silver hair just above Evelyn’s right ear.
One short pass.
A clean pale strip appeared beneath the elegant hairstyle.
Evelyn gasped.
Gabriel caught Claire’s wrist.
“Enough.”
Claire turned on him.
“Enough?”
Her voice broke.
“She held our daughter down.”
“I said enough because Lucy is watching.”
That stopped her.
Claire looked toward the exam table.
Lucy was staring at them with huge frightened eyes.
Claire switched off the clipper.
Silence returned.
Dr. Patel crouched beside Lucy.
“You didn’t cause any of this.”
Lucy nodded, but she did not look convinced.
Evelyn touched the shaved strip near her temple.
Her face had gone white.
“You assaulted me.”
Claire laughed once.
“You want to call the police?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Claire set the clipper on the counter.
“Tell them why it’s here.”
Gabriel looked at his mother.
“What happened?”
Evelyn lifted her chin.
“I disciplined a child who was snooping through things that did not belong to her.”
Gabriel went still.
“What things?”
Evelyn realized too late that she had answered the wrong question.
Lucy’s fingers tightened around Claire’s hand.
“Grandma’s red book.”
Gabriel looked at his daughter.
“What red book?”
Evelyn cut in.
“Lucy—”
Gabriel turned.
“Do not speak to her.”
The room changed.
Claire knew that voice.
Men twice Gabriel’s size had learned to fear it.
But this time, he did not move toward Evelyn.
He moved toward Lucy.
He crouched in front of the exam table.
“Tell me about the book, peanut.”
Lucy looked at Evelyn.
Then at her father.
“It had your name.”
Gabriel’s face lost color.
“What else?”
“Numbers.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know.”
Lucy swallowed.
“And a picture of Mommy.”
Claire felt cold.
Gabriel stared at her.
“A picture?”
Lucy nodded.
“Grandma said I wasn’t supposed to see it.”
“What picture of Mommy?”
Lucy looked down at her black shoes.
“She was sleeping.”
Claire’s heart began to pound.
Evelyn said sharply, “That is enough.”
Gabriel did not look at her.
“Lucy.”
The little girl’s voice fell to a whisper.
“Grandma said if I told you about the red book, Mommy would go away.”
Gabriel stood slowly.
Dr. Patel looked from one adult to another.
Claire could barely breathe.
“What red book?” she asked Evelyn.
Evelyn picked up her handbag.
“You are making a spectacle in front of a child.”
“No,” Claire said. “You made the spectacle when you shaved her head.”
Evelyn moved toward the door.
Gabriel stepped in front of it.
His voice was quiet.
“You’re not leaving.”
His mother stared at him.
“You would block your own mother?”
Gabriel’s eyes flicked toward Lucy’s shaved scalp.
“Yes.”
His phone rang.
Marco Serrano, his head of security.
Gabriel answered without looking away from Evelyn.
“Talk.”
A pause.
Then another.
Gabriel’s face changed.
“What do you mean it’s gone?”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
Gabriel looked toward Lucy.
“Lock the house down.”
He ended the call.
“What?” Claire asked.
Gabriel looked at his mother.
“The safe in my study was opened forty minutes ago.”
Evelyn said nothing.
Gabriel continued.
“One thing is missing.”
Claire already knew.
“The red book?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“No.”
May you like
His eyes hardened.
“The gun registered to my name.”
