Chapter 2 - The Woman My Father HiredBy three in the morning, the mansion had become a hospital.
Doctors moved through the corridors.
Security doubled.
Every entrance was locked.
No one was allowed to leave.
Clara was taken to St. Vincent's under armed protection.
I stayed behind.
I sat on the huge sofa in Moretti's study wearing one of his shirts because my clothes were wet from walking barefoot through the mansion.
He sat across from me.
He hadn't slept.
Neither had I.
Marco placed the metal box on the desk.
Moretti opened the letter again.
His father's handwriting was unmistakable.
If Clara Bennett ever comes to you, do not send her away.
Moretti stared at it.
“Why?”
Marco shook his head.
“There are more pages.”
He unfolded the letter.
She knows what happened the night of the warehouse fire.
Moretti's expression hardened.
The warehouse fire.
I didn't know what that meant.
But Marco did.
I could see it in his face.
“What warehouse?” Moretti asked.
Marco didn't answer immediately.
“Fourteen years ago,” he finally said, “your father lost a shipment.”
Moretti frowned.
“I know.”
“It wasn't a shipment.”
Silence.
“It was money.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-eight million dollars.”
Moretti leaned back.
“Who stole it?”
“We always believed your father's accountant did.”
“Was he?”
“No.”
Moretti's eyes narrowed.
“Then who?”
Marco looked at the letter.
“Your father never told anyone.”
I watched them.
Adults always became strange when they were afraid.
Moretti noticed me staring.
He closed the letter.
“Go upstairs.”
I shook my head.
“My mommy told me not to sleep alone.”
He hesitated.
“You can stay here.”
He moved a blanket toward me.
I curled up on the sofa.
Before I closed my eyes, I heard Marco whisper:
“Boss.”
“What?”
“The girl's name.”
Moretti looked at me.
“What about it?”
“Her mother registered her as Sophie Bennett.”
Moretti froze.
“That's not what Clara told the hospital.”
“What did she use?”
Marco placed another document on the desk.
“Amelia Rose Bennett.”
Moretti stared at it.
Then at me.
“Why would she use a different name for her own daughter?”
Marco's answer was quiet.
“Maybe because someone was looking for her.”
The next morning, Clara woke in the hospital.
Moretti went himself.
I stayed beside him.
When Clara saw me, relief crossed her face.
Then she saw Moretti.
Fear replaced it.
“Where is my daughter?”
“Safe.”
“Take me to her.”
“You're staying here.”
“No.”
She tried to sit up.
The monitor began beeping.
Moretti gently pushed her back.
“You nearly died.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Please.”
“I told her you're not going to die.”
Clara stared at him.
“You promised her?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Then keep it.”
Moretti leaned closer.
“Who are you?”
Clara said nothing.
“Why did my father hire you?”
Silence.
“Why did you come into my house?”
Her lips trembled.
“I needed somewhere safe.”
“From whom?”
Clara looked toward the window.
Then whispered:
“Your father's enemies.”
Moretti's expression changed.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you still hiding?”
She looked directly at him.
“Because the people who killed him aren't dead.”
The room went silent.
Moretti stared at her.
“Who killed my father?”
Clara shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Then how do you know he was murdered?”
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She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“Because I was there.”
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