Chapter 18 - THE MAN BEHIND THE NAME|
The voice message was sent to an investigator for analysis. The first results suggested that the speaker was an older man, but the recording was too short to establish identity. The call had passed through several temporary numbers, and the final signal originated near a coastal town in Connecticut.
Dante wanted to leave immediately.
The investigators advised against it.
“If your father is alive, someone may be using the message to draw you into a trap,” the lead investigator warned.
Dante's expression was hard.
“Then we'll take precautions.”
Sofia stood beside the table.
“We'll go with the investigators, not ahead of them.”
He looked at her, then nodded.
The town was quiet, its streets lined with old houses and bare trees. The location associated with the call led them to a small residential care facility overlooking the water. The building had recently changed ownership, and its patient records were held by a private management company.
The administrator met them in a conference room.
“I cannot release patient information without proper authorization.”
Dante placed the court documents on the table.
“We have a lawful request for records related to a patient admitted under an unidentified name eighteen years ago.”
The administrator studied the papers.
“I'll have our counsel review them.”
Sofia noticed a framed photograph on the wall behind the desk. It showed the facility's original staff outside the building. One man stood at the edge of the group, half turned away from the camera.
He had the same dark eyes as Dante.
“Who is that?” she asked.
The administrator glanced at the photograph.
“Dr. Samuel Pierce. He was the medical director here for many years. He retired recently.”
“Can we speak with him?”
“He lives nearby, but I can't provide his address.”
The investigator requested contact through counsel. An hour later, Dr. Pierce agreed to meet them at the facility.
He arrived with a cane and a wary expression.
When he saw Dante, his face changed.
“You look like your father.”
Dante stood slowly.
“You knew Michael Ferrara?”
“I treated him.”
“Was he alive after the crash?”
Dr. Pierce looked toward the administrator.
“I would prefer to speak privately.”
They moved to a small consultation room. The doctor closed the door and sat down.
“Your father survived the initial injuries,” he said. “He was unconscious for several weeks. When he woke, he had difficulty speaking and did not always recognize people.”
Dante gripped the back of a chair.
“Why was he registered under another name?”
“Because someone paid to keep his identity confidential.”
“Who?”
“Your uncle.”
“Did my father consent?”
Dr. Pierce hesitated.
“Not at first. But later, when his condition improved, he became afraid of returning to New York. He believed someone would try to finish what had begun on the road.”
Dante's voice was barely audible.
“Did he ever ask for me?”
“Yes.”
The answer seemed to strike him physically.
“Why didn't you contact me?”
“I tried. Your uncle sent legal notices threatening the facility and its staff. He claimed your father was mentally incapable of making decisions and that any contact would endanger the family.”
“And you believed him?”
“I was afraid. I had a wife and two children. I told myself that keeping Michael alive was enough.”
Sofia watched the doctor's face.
“Did you send the message?”
Dr. Pierce shook his head.
“No. I haven't spoken to Michael in months.”
Dante stepped closer.
“Where is he now?”
The doctor looked down at his hands.
“He left the facility six years ago. A woman came for him. She showed documents authorizing the transfer, and he went willingly.”
“Who was she?”
“I don't know her name. But she wore a silver compass pendant.”
Sofia looked at Dante.
The same pendant appeared in the old photograph, the locket, and the records connected to Laura Bennett.
“Was she Eleanor?” Sofia asked.
Dr. Pierce shook his head.
“No. She was younger.”
Adrian stood abruptly.
“My mother?”
The doctor looked at him carefully.
“Possibly. She told me that Michael had a son who deserved to know the truth, but she was not ready to reveal where he was.”
Adrian's face went pale.
“My mother knew he was alive.”
The doctor nodded.
“She believed that bringing him home would place both of you in danger.”
Dante looked at the window, where the winter sea moved beneath a gray sky.
His father had survived. Someone had protected him. And the family that had spent eighteen years mourning him had never truly known where he was.
Then the investigator's phone rang.
After a brief conversation, he turned toward Dante.
“Vittorio has been arrested at a private airport. He was carrying a passport under another name and a set of documents connected to the medical accounts.”
Dante barely reacted.
“Does he know about this facility?”
“We don't know.”
Sofia watched Dante's expression.
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The truth was no longer a question of whether his father had died.
It was a question of why Michael had stayed away—and whether he had chosen to remain hidden even after the danger had passed.
