Chapter 6 - THE HOUSE BESIDE THE FROZEN LAKE
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They left the mansion in an unmarked SUV just before dusk.
Dominic insisted on driving despite Matteo's objections. Lucy sat beside him, while Clara followed in a second vehicle with Raphael.
The roads north were slick with freezing rain. Bare trees crowded the highway, their branches bending beneath the weight of early snow.
For nearly an hour, neither Lucy nor Dominic spoke.
Finally, Lucy turned toward him.
“Were you ever going to tell me about your family?”
“I didn't know about yours.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Dominic kept his eyes on the road.
“I've spent my life believing that anyone who wanted something from me would eventually use it against me. So I learned to give people as little as possible.”
“Feelings included?”
“Especially feelings.”
Lucy watched his hands tighten around the steering wheel.
“And now?”
“Now I'm discovering that keeping people at a distance doesn't stop them from getting hurt.”
The honesty startled her.
She reached across the console and rested her fingers against his wrist.
His hand trembled.
This time, she didn't make a joke.
“Your body is allowed to be frightened, Dominic.”
He gave a short, humorless laugh.
“That's a generous permission.”
“I'm full of generosity.”
“I've noticed.”
Their eyes met for a moment.
Then the GPS signal disappeared.
Dominic slowed.
Ahead, a narrow road led toward the lake. The house in the photograph stood beyond a line of pine trees, its windows dark.
He parked a hundred yards away.
“Stay behind me.”
Lucy opened her door.
“No.”
“Lucy.”
“You can either spend the next ten minutes arguing with me or accept that I'm coming.”
He stared at her.
Then he exhaled.
“Stay close.”
They approached the house together.
The front door stood open.
Inside, a kettle sat cold on the stove. A blanket lay across a chair. The room looked recently occupied, but there was no sign of Elena.
Lucy found a photograph on the mantel.
Her mother stood beside a younger woman with dark hair. The younger woman held a baby.
On the back, someone had written: For the daughters who were never supposed to meet.
Lucy turned the photograph over.
“Who is she?”
Dominic examined it.
“I don't know.”
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Dominic raised his weapon and moved toward the staircase. Lucy followed despite his silent warning.
At the top, they found a bedroom with a narrow bed and an open wardrobe.
On the pillow lay a folded letter addressed to Lucy.
She opened it with shaking hands.
My darling girl,
If you're reading this, then the people I spent my life running from have finally found us.
Your father wasn't a criminal. He was a witness. He knew what happened at the hospital the night Dominic and his brother were born, and he kept the truth hidden because he believed it would save both children.
I need you to understand something. The man who raised you was not the only person who loved you enough to lie.
I am sorry for everything I couldn't tell you.
Find the woman in the photograph. Ask her what happened to the third child.
The letter ended without a signature.
Lucy looked at Dominic.
“Third child?”
He shook his head slowly.
Before either could speak, a gunshot shattered the silence outside.
Dominic pushed Lucy to the floor.
A second shot struck the window.
He covered her with his body, his injured shoulder hitting the boards hard enough to make him gasp.
“Dominic!”
“Stay down.”
He crawled toward the wall and pulled out his phone.
No signal.
From the doorway came the sound of footsteps.
Lucy looked up, expecting Raphael.
Instead, Bianca Russo stood at the top of the stairs.
Her gray hair was loose. Her face was pale.
And in her hand was a gun.
Dominic raised his weapon.
“Bianca.”
She looked at him with an expression that was almost sorrowful.
“I told your father this day would come.”
“Put the gun down.”
“I can't.”
Lucy stared at the woman who had spent years managing the Moretti household, who had corrected her table settings and complained about her untidy apron.
“Bianca, please.”
Bianca's eyes filled with tears.
“You don't understand what your father did.”
Dominic's voice hardened.
“My father is dead.”
“No,” Bianca whispered. “Your father died twelve years ago.”
She looked at Lucy.
“Your father died last month.”
Lucy felt the blood drain from her face.
May you like
Bianca raised the gun toward Dominic.
“And the man who ordered both deaths is standing right behind you.”
