Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO REMEMBERED TOO MUCH|
Sofia returned to her apartment in Washington Heights shortly after midnight.
The building’s elevator was broken, as usual, so she climbed four flights of stairs carrying a paper bag of leftover rolls the catering staff had allowed her to take. Her mother had taught her never to waste food. Since her mother’s death, that lesson had become a form of survival.
Mateo was asleep when she entered their small apartment. A blanket covered his legs, and the television played quietly beside the couch where he spent most afternoons recovering from treatment.
Sofia placed the rolls in the kitchen and checked his medication schedule.
His next dialysis appointment was Thursday.
She did not tell him about the gala, the dismissal, or Dante Ferrara’s offer. Mateo already felt guilty about the money she spent on him. He had once apologized for being sick, and Sofia had nearly cried from the cruelty of the idea.
The following morning, a knock sounded at the door.
Sofia opened it to find a delivery driver holding a small envelope.
“No signature required.”
Inside was a folded note.
You should have stayed invisible.
There was no name, no return address, and no explanation.
Sofia checked the hallway. Empty.
She locked the door and photographed the note before putting it into a plastic sleeve. It might have been a prank. It might have been someone from the club trying to frighten her into silence.
But she had watched Vivienne Sterling deliberately humiliate Eleanor. And she had seen the senator smile.
Perhaps powerful people were accustomed to punishing anyone who made them look cruel.
At ten o’clock, Sofia called Dante.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Does your family have enemies who send anonymous notes?”
A pause.
“What did the note say?”
She read it aloud.
Dante’s voice changed.
“Don’t throw it away. Don’t confront anyone. I’m sending someone to collect it.”
“I’m not asking for a bodyguard.”
“You’re asking whether someone might be threatening you. The answer is yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because someone threatened my mother last night.”
Sofia’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“Was that why she went to the gala?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dante, I’m not going to pretend this is normal.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.”
Within forty minutes, a woman named Lena Brooks arrived at Sofia’s apartment. She introduced herself as a former police detective now working in Dante’s security office. She examined the note, asked Sofia a series of careful questions, and promised to have the paper checked for fingerprints.
Sofia disliked the idea of strangers investigating her life, but Lena treated her like a partner rather than a witness.
Before leaving, Lena handed her a small card.
“If anyone approaches you unexpectedly, call me. If you feel unsafe, call emergency services first.”
“Does Dante know you’re giving me this?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know I don’t want to be followed?”
Lena smiled faintly.
“He knows. He also knows I’m not going to ignore a credible threat just because a wealthy man is worried.”
For the first time since the gala, Sofia relaxed.
That afternoon, she visited Eleanor at the townhouse. The older woman was sitting beside the window, arranging photographs into neat piles.
When she saw Sofia, her face brightened.
“You came back.”
“I said I would.”
Eleanor pulled a photograph from the stack.
It showed a younger Eleanor standing beside a man in a navy coat. Behind them was a warehouse near a pier.
“Do you know who this is?” she asked.
Sofia studied the man’s face.
“No.”
Eleanor touched the photograph with one finger.
“My husband. Before he died.”
Dante entered the room just as his mother whispered the next words.
“He didn’t fall into the water, darling.”
Dante stopped.
Eleanor looked up, suddenly frightened by her own confession.
“I saw the car,” she said. “I heard them arguing. Your father was alive when they took him away.”
The photograph slipped from her hand.
Dante caught it before it reached the floor.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then he looked at Sofia.
“Please stay with my mother.”
May you like
His voice was quiet, but his face had become frighteningly still.
“I need to find out who was at that dock.”
