Chapter 8 - A DEAD WIFE'S FINAL CONFESSION
The safe house stood on a wooded property outside Cold Spring Harbor.
It belonged to a retired judge who owed Lorenzo a favor.
By midnight, Leo was sleeping in a portable crib beside Hunter's bed, and a pediatric medical team had confirmed that the emergency evacuation had not caused an immediate setback.
Lorenzo stood outside on the terrace.
He had not spoken for nearly an hour.
Hunter found him staring into the darkness.
"You saw her too," she said.
He didn't turn.
"Yes."
"Could it have been someone who looked like her?"
"Maybe."
"But you don't believe that."
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
"I buried my wife."
Hunter approached carefully.
"I know."
"I saw her body."
"Are you sure?"
He turned sharply.
"What kind of question is that?"
"The kind we have to ask."
Lorenzo looked away.
He remembered the hospital.
The white sheets.
The surgeon explaining the injuries.
The sealed coffin.
The funeral.
He had been heavily medicated after the explosion.
His memory of those days came in fragments.
"I saw her face," he whispered.
Hunter said nothing.
"At least, I think I did."
The words frightened him.
Because for two months, Sophia's death had been the one certainty around which he had built his entire life.
Now even that certainty was beginning to collapse.
Inside, Marco was reviewing security footage.
The black sedan had disappeared before reaching the safe house.
But a traffic camera had captured its license plate.
The vehicle belonged to a private security company registered in Delaware.
Its parent corporation was controlled by Adrian Mercer.
Lorenzo listened as Marco explained.
"Mercer knows who was in that car."
"Then bring him in."
"Federal investigators are already looking for him. He left his Connecticut estate this afternoon."
"Where?"
"We don't know."
Lorenzo's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A woman's voice spoke.
"Lorenzo."
His entire body went rigid.
"Sophia?"
A pause.
Then a whisper.
"Please don't hang up."
Lorenzo gripped the railing.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Are you alive?"
Silence.
Then she began crying.
"I'm sorry."
Lorenzo staggered backward.
Hunter caught his arm.
"Tell me where you are," he demanded.
"I can't."
"Do you know what I've done because I thought you were dead?"
"I know."
"Do you know how many people died?"
Sophia sobbed.
"Lorenzo, listen to me. You have to protect Leo."
"From who?"
"Mercer."
"I know about Mercer."
"No," Sophia whispered. "You don't."
The line crackled.
Then she said, "The woman with Leo isn't who you think she is."
Lorenzo turned toward Hunter.
Hunter stared at him.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
Sophia's breathing quickened.
"The clinic. They changed the records. They used her without telling her."
"Used her for what?"
A muffled voice sounded in the background.
Sophia gasped.
"Lorenzo, don't let them take Hunter."
The call ended.
Lorenzo stood motionless.
Hunter felt the world tilt.
"What did she say?"
He looked at her.
Then repeated every word.
Hunter sat down.
Her hands began shaking.
"Used me?"
Lorenzo knelt before her.
"We don't know what she meant."
"She knows my name."
"Yes."
"Your wife knows my name."
He nodded.
Hunter looked toward the bedroom where Leo slept.
Then she whispered, "What if Lily's death wasn't the only thing they lied to me about?"
Lorenzo took her hands.
"We'll find out."
For the first time, he didn't promise to kill anyone.
He promised the truth.
The following morning, Dr. Bennett arrived with a sealed report.
She had worked with independent specialists to review the clinic's records and the medical evidence collected after the attack.
Her expression was grave.
"Mr. Rossi, Miss Higgins, there's something you need to see."
She placed a document on the table.
Hunter recognized her name.
Below it appeared a second name.
Sophia Rossi.
The records described a confidential reproductive-medicine study involving stored biological samples.
But several entries had been altered.
And one sample identification number appeared in both women's files.
Hunter looked at Bennett.
"What does this mean?"
"It means we cannot rely on these records to establish whose samples were used. We need independent verification."
Lorenzo leaned forward.
"Are you saying Leo might not be Sophia's biological child?"
"I'm saying the clinic's documentation is unreliable."
Hunter stared at the report.
A terrible thought formed.
She could barely speak.
"Could Leo be mine?"
Bennett met her eyes.
"We don't know."
The room fell silent.
Then Marco entered.
He carried an envelope.
It had been delivered to the safe house gate.
No return address.
Inside was a photograph.
Hunter lying unconscious in a clinic bed.
A medical identification bracelet around her wrist.
And beside her stood Adrian Mercer.
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On the back, someone had written:
SHE WAS NEVER MEANT TO REMEMBER.
