Chapter 5 - The Photograph Beneath the Floor
Dominic had built his life around one certainty: Elena was dead.
Now every memory had become a question.
He remembered the closed casket. The funeral he had barely survived. The doctor who'd insisted that the body was too badly damaged for him to see.
He remembered his father's hand on his shoulder.
You can't save everyone, son.
At the time, Dominic had believed it was grief.
Now it sounded like a confession.
He brought Lily back to the orphanage's office while Victor arranged additional security. The little girl sat quietly, coloring a picture of three people beneath a yellow sun.
Dominic watched her draw.
"Who's that?" he asked, pointing at the smallest figure.
"Me."
"And the tall person?"
"You."
He looked at the third figure.
A woman with long dark hair.
"And who's she?"
Lily colored the woman's dress blue.
"My mommy."
Dominic's throat tightened.
"Do you remember her?"
Lily shook her head.
"Not really. Sometimes I dream about a lady singing. She has a silver necklace, and she smells like flowers."
Elena had worn a silver necklace with a tiny crescent moon.
Dominic had given it to her on their first anniversary.
"Do you remember what she sings?"
Lily hummed a few notes.
The melody was soft and unfamiliar.
Yet Dominic recognized the final three notes. Elena used to sing them whenever she couldn't sleep.
He sat down beside Lily.
"That's a beautiful song."
"Mrs. Bell says I might have heard it when I was a baby."
"Maybe."
Lily put down her crayon.
"Dominic, if my mommy is in heaven, does that mean she knows I'm here?"
He swallowed.
"I believe the people who love us leave pieces of themselves behind."
"Like songs?"
"Exactly like songs."
She seemed satisfied with that answer.
Then she held out her drawing.
"You can keep it until tomorrow."
He accepted it carefully, as though she had handed him something priceless.
That evening, Dominic took Margaret's key to the abandoned hospital chapel.
Victor insisted on accompanying him.
The building had been scheduled for demolition, its windows boarded up and its corridors filled with dust. Beneath the chapel, they found a narrow storage room with a rusted lock.
The key turned.
Inside stood rows of filing cabinets and several metal boxes.
Dominic searched until he found a folder bearing Elena's name.
It contained medical records, payment receipts, and a handwritten letter addressed to him.
He recognized her handwriting immediately.
Dominic, if you are reading this, something has happened to me, and I have failed to protect our daughter.
His hands shook.
Anthony believes the baby will destroy everything he has built. He doesn't understand that our daughter is not a threat. She is the only innocent thing left in this family.
Dominic stopped reading.
Victor stood silently beside him.
The letter continued.
If anything happens to me, don't trust the people who tell you the baby died. Find the child. And if you find her, please don't let our sins become hers.
Dominic pressed the letter against his chest.
For six years, he'd mourned a child while the woman he loved might have been fighting to survive somewhere beyond his reach.
He opened the final envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Elena standing outside a small cottage. She looked thinner than Dominic remembered, but she was alive.
On the back, she had written an address.
Victor checked his phone.
"The property still exists. Upstate, near Hudson."
"Get the car."
"Boss, we should wait for backup."
"No."
"Someone has been tracking us."
Dominic looked at Elena's photograph.
"Then we don't give them time to get there first."
Before leaving, he searched the remaining files and found a small digital recorder. Its label read: Delivery Room — Final Statement.
He pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then Elena's voice emerged, weak but unmistakable.
"Dominic, if you're hearing this, please forgive me."
He closed his eyes.
"I know what Anthony plans to do. He believes taking our daughter will force you to obey him. But I won't let him turn her into another weapon."
A long pause followed.
Then Elena whispered words that made Dominic's blood run cold.
"There's one person who can help you find us. You trust him more than anyone."
Dominic leaned toward the recorder.
"Who?" he whispered.
Elena's voice crackled.
"Your best friend."
The recording ended.
Victor stared at him.
"Who was your best friend, sir?"
Dominic didn't answer.
He was already thinking of the only man who had stood beside him through every betrayal, every battle, and every funeral.
The man who had signed Elena's death certificate as a witness.
His closest friend.
His chief of security.
Victor Hale.
Dominic slowly turned toward him.
Victor looked horrified.
"Boss, I swear—"
A gunshot shattered the silence.
The chapel window exploded inward.
May you like
Dominic threw himself behind a cabinet as Victor fell to the floor.
And when Dominic crawled toward him, he saw blood spreading across Victor's shirt.
