Chapter 8 - UNCLE DAMIAN
The final shape of Arturo Marino's plan was uglier than anyone expected.
He had never intended Sophie to die.
He had intended to own her.
Mercer was supposed to force Matthew's vehicle off the road without causing a fatal collision.
Then Isabel would disappear.
Matthew would be frightened into silence.
Sophie would eventually be placed inside the Marino household.
Damian would learn she was his daughter only after Arturo had positioned himself as the man who had “saved” her.
A child turned into leverage.
A family turned into a cage.
Matthew had ruined the plan by fighting back.
When Mercer struck the SUV, Matthew refused to stop.
The wet road did the rest.
Claire arrived minutes later.
Then Arturo.
Claire took Sophie before her father could.
Frank stayed with Matthew.
Mercer removed unconscious Isabel.
And by dawn, every survivor was trapped inside a different lie.
They reconstructed it from pieces.
Frank's original memories.
The county traffic frames.
Arturo's rosary bead.
Mercer's recording.
Isabel's returning memory.
Claire's actions.
Matthew's broken watch.
No single piece contained the whole truth.
Together they did.
Damian stood in his office that evening staring at Matthew's watch.
Rachel leaned against the opposite bookshelf.
“You keep looking at it.”
“I spent four years believing Matthew left me with his daughter.”
“He left you with yours.”
Damian's jaw tightened.
“That doesn't make it better.”
“No.”
Rachel paused.
“It makes what he did bigger.”
Damian looked at her.
Rachel continued.
“He raised a child he knew wasn't biologically his. He protected her from Arturo. And at the end he tried to send the truth back to you.”
Damian looked down at the cracked crystal.
“I resented him.”
“You didn't know.”
“I should have.”
“You can't keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Taking responsibility for information other people deliberately kept from you.”
Damian almost smiled.
“You said the opposite to me yesterday.”
“No. Yesterday you were about to keep information from Sophie.”
Rachel folded her arms.
“Different crime.”
That earned a small laugh.
It disappeared quickly.
“What happens to Claire?” Rachel asked.
Damian's face closed.
“She gives a complete statement.”
“And after?”
“She leaves every Marino company.”
“Because you ordered it?”
“Because she offered.”
Rachel considered that.
Claire had spent the afternoon with investigators.
Not Marino investigators.
County and state investigators.
She had handed over financial records, treatment payments and the names of people Arturo had used.
She had also admitted threatening Frank.
And Rachel.
For once, Claire had asked for no protection from consequences.
“Are you going to forgive her?” Rachel asked.
“I don't know.”
“Good.”
Damian looked over.
“Good?”
“I'd worry if you already knew.”
Rachel's tone softened.
“Forgiveness isn't the same as pretending nothing happened.”
Damian nodded.
“And you?”
“I'm not there.”
“Fair.”
Rachel touched her ribs carefully.
“But she apologized to my father.”
Damian looked surprised.
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
A faint smile.
“He let her sit in silence for ten minutes.”
“That sounds unpleasant.”
“He enjoyed it.”
They both smiled.
Then Isabel appeared in the doorway.
“Sophie wants you.”
Damian's expression changed instantly.
“Is she okay?”
“Yes.”
Isabel hesitated.
“She heard something.”
Rachel straightened.
“What?”
“Enough.”
They found Sophie in the sunroom.
Her stuffed fox sat in her lap.
The two silver fox charms lay on the table.
Someone had attached them to the same bracelet.
Sophie looked at Damian.
“Can I ask something?”
“Always.”
She glanced at Isabel.
Then Rachel.
“You were talking.”
Damian sat across from her.
“We were.”
“Mommy said Matthew knew.”
Damian remained very still.
Sophie called Matthew Daddy when speaking about memories.
She called Damian Uncle Damian.
Those words had defined four years.
“What did you hear?”
“That Grandpa Arturo wanted me because I was your daughter.”
No one moved.
Sophie frowned.
“Is that true?”
Damian felt fear unlike anything business or violence had ever given him.
Rachel sat beside Sophie.
Not touching her.
Just close.
“You can answer,” Rachel told Damian quietly.
He looked at the little girl he had raised.
The child whose fevers he had sat through.
Whose school concerts he attended from the back row.
Whose bicycle he had run beside until she screamed at him to let go.
The child who had been his long before blood gave him permission to say so.
“Yes.”
Sophie blinked.
“I'm your daughter?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Isabel.
“Was Daddy Matthew lying?”
“No.”
Isabel crouched.
“Matthew was your daddy too.”
Sophie looked confused.
“Can I have two?”
Isabel's face folded into tears.
Rachel smiled softly.
“You can have all the people who love you.”
Sophie thought about that.
Then she looked at Damian.
“If you're my dad…”
He waited.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
His throat tightened.
“I didn't know.”
She studied him.
Children could be mercilessly simple.
“You really didn't?”
“No.”
A pause.
“Does that mean I have to call you Dad?”
Damian almost broke.
“No.”
“What do I call you?”
“Whatever feels right.”
Sophie looked down at her fox.
Then at Matthew's photograph on the table.
“Daddy Matthew is still Daddy Matthew.”
“Always.”
“And you're still Uncle Damian?”
“If that's what you want.”
She frowned.
“But you're my dad.”
“Yes.”
“That is confusing.”
Rachel laughed softly.
“It is.”
Sophie leaned back.
“I'll decide later.”
Damian nodded.
“That sounds reasonable.”
She reached for the fox charms.
Then stopped.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
Her eyes moved between Damian and Isabel.
“Is Mommy staying?”
Nobody answered immediately.
That silence frightened her.
Sophie gripped the bracelet.
“Because people keep leaving.”
The adults froze.
Rachel closed her eyes.
There it was.
Not paternity.
Not Arturo.
Not Mercer.
The real wound.
Sophie didn't care which adult had signed which paper seven years earlier.
She wanted to know whether everyone she loved would disappear again.
Damian moved closer.
“Look at me.”
Sophie did.
“Your mother is staying in Pittsburgh.”
Isabel nodded quickly.
“Yes.”
“Rachel?”
Sophie asked the name even more quietly.
Rachel's expression changed.
Damian looked at her.
And realized he had never actually asked Rachel what she wanted after learning her employment had been manipulated from the beginning.
Before he could answer for her, Rachel did.
“I haven't decided what my job will be.”
Sophie looked frightened.
“But I'm not disappearing without telling you.”
“Promise?”
Rachel held out her pinkie.
“Promise.”
Sophie hooked hers around it.
Then she looked at Claire's empty chair across the room.
“What about Aunt Claire?”
No one had an easy answer.
Damian refused to create another lie.
“Aunt Claire did some things that hurt people.”
“Is she bad?”
“No.”
Claire's voice came from the hallway.
Everyone turned.
She stood there wearing no makeup, no jewelry, no armor.
“I did bad things.”
Sophie looked at her.
Claire stayed near the door.
She did not approach.
“I thought being scared gave me permission to decide everything for everybody.”
Sophie frowned.
“Are you going away?”
“For a while.”
“Because you're in trouble?”
“Yes.”
Sophie considered that.
Then she picked up one silver fox charm.
She held it toward Claire.
Claire stared.
“You keep it,” Sophie said.
“Why?”
“So you bring it back.”
Claire broke.
She covered her mouth.
Sophie waited.
Claire slowly crossed the room and accepted the charm.
“I will.”
“How long?”
“I don't know.”
Sophie nodded solemnly.
“That's better than lying.”
Claire looked at Damian.
The words cut them both.
“Yes,” Claire whispered.
“It is.”
Later that night, Damian stood outside Sophie's room.
He thought she was asleep.
Then her voice came through the darkness.
“Uncle Damian?”
He stepped inside.
“Yes?”
She hugged her fox.
“If Daddy Matthew picked you to take care of me…”
Damian sat beside her.
“Yes?”
“Did he know you were my dad?”
“Yes.”
Sophie stared at him.
May you like
Then whispered the question Damian had feared all evening.
“Then why did everybody think you weren't?”
