Chapter 8 - The Girl Who Carried His Brother's EyesDominic read the message three times.
Then he called Gemma.
She answered from the hospital corridor.
“Dominic?”
“I found Lily.”
Gemma stopped walking.
“Where?”
“I have a photograph and an address.”
“Is it real?”
“I don't know.”
“Then don't go alone.”
“The message specifically says—”
“I don't care what the message says.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“That's becoming a habit with you.”
“Someone has already tried to kill Dante and break into my home. I'm not letting you walk into another trap because an anonymous email told you to.”
He looked at the photograph.
The girl's resemblance to Adrian was unmistakable.
“She's my family.”
“And so are the people who need you alive.”
The words settled heavily.
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Come to the office.”
The address led to a coastal town in Connecticut.
Marcus investigated the property through public records.
It belonged to a retired schoolteacher named Eleanor Price.
No criminal history.
No known connection to the Falcones.
The photograph appeared to have been taken recently.
Gemma studied it carefully.
“Look at the window.”
Dominic leaned closer.
A reflection showed part of a woman's face.
Silver hair.
Pearl earrings.
Margaret Vale.
Dominic stared.
“She lied.”
“Maybe,” Gemma said. “Or someone wants you to think she did.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You're getting good at this.”
“I'd rather be good at accounting.”
They traveled to Connecticut with Marcus and two security officers.
Dominic agreed to let law enforcement know about the potential connection to the ongoing investigation, although he resisted the idea of involving outsiders.
Gemma insisted.
“If Lily is a minor, we don't get to treat her like another asset to recover.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You think I would?”
“I think you've spent your whole life solving problems by taking control.”
He didn't answer.
She continued.
“This time, you need to earn someone's trust.”
The coastal house stood behind a white fence overlooking a gray stretch of ocean.
Dominic approached the front door without a weapon.
Marcus remained near the car.
Gemma stood beside Dominic.
He knocked.
A woman in her seventies answered.
“Can I help you?”
“I'm Dominic Falcone.”
The woman's expression changed.
She looked past him toward the vehicles.
Then at Gemma.
“Who is she?”
“My colleague.”
Gemma stepped forward.
“Gemma Hayes. We believe a girl named Lily may be living here.”
The woman gripped the doorframe.
“Who sent you?”
Dominic showed her the photograph.
Her face went pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“Someone emailed it to me.”
She looked toward the staircase.
Then whispered, “You shouldn't have come.”
A voice sounded behind her.
“Grandma?”
A teenage girl appeared in the hallway.
She wore jeans, an oversized sweater, and white sneakers.
Her dark hair was pulled into a loose ponytail.
Dominic forgot how to breathe.
The girl had Adrian's eyes.
His brother's expression.
Even the slight tilt of his head.
She looked at Dominic.
Then at the photograph in his hand.
“Are you the man from Dad's pictures?”
Dominic swallowed.
“Yes.”
Lily stepped closer.
“Uncle Dominic?”
His chest tightened.
“Yes.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Lily crossed the hallway and hugged him.
Dominic stood frozen.
He had been embraced by strangers who wanted favors.
By women who wanted money.
By associates celebrating victories.
But this was different.
A child he had never known wrapped her arms around him because she believed he was family.
Slowly, he returned the embrace.
And for the first time in fourteen years, Dominic cried.
Inside, Eleanor explained that Elena Russo had brought Lily to her shortly after Adrian disappeared.
Elena had remained in contact for several years.
Then, six years earlier, she vanished.
“Do you know what happened?” Gemma asked.
Eleanor shook her head.
“She said someone was following her. She didn't want Lily endangered.”
“Was Adrian alive when Lily was born?” Dominic asked.
Eleanor nodded.
“He visited twice.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“When?”
“After the river incident.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don't know.”
Lily sat quietly beside the fireplace.
Then she spoke.
“Dad used to send me birthday cards.”
Everyone turned.
Eleanor looked startled.
“Lily—”
“He did,” the girl insisted. “Grandma kept them.”
Dominic's heart pounded.
“Do you still have them?”
Lily nodded.
She disappeared upstairs.
When she returned, she carried a shoebox filled with envelopes.
Fourteen birthday cards.
Each signed with the same words.
Always watching over you. Love, Dad.
Dominic examined the postmarks.
Different cities.
Different years.
The most recent card had arrived eight months earlier.
His brother had been alive eight months ago.
As they prepared to leave, Lily approached Dominic.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Did my dad really do bad things?”
Dominic crouched so they were eye level.
“He made mistakes. So have I.”
“Was he a bad person?”
Dominic looked at her.
“No. I don't believe he was.”
Lily nodded.
Then whispered, “He told me you'd say that.”
Dominic froze.
“When?”
She reached into her sweater pocket.
“Last Christmas.”
She held out a small silver key.
“He came here. Just for an hour.”
Dominic stared at it.
“What does this open?”
Lily shook her head.
“He said you'd know.”
Dominic turned the key over.
May you like
A number had been engraved into the metal.
0917.
