Chapter 4 - THE MEMORY BURIED IN A CHILD'S SONG
Dante doubled the guards.
Sarah hated it.
She hated locked doors, men with weapons and the fact that Toby now slept in a guarded guest suite.
But she stayed.
Because somebody had shot at them in a cemetery.
And because Mia and Bella had screamed when Sarah tried to explain that she might leave.
That night Sarah sat between their beds.
"No lights," Bella insisted.
"No lights."
"And song."
Sarah hesitated.
"The same one?"
Both girls nodded.
She began humming.
Halfway through the final verse, Mia sat upright.
"Mommy."
Sarah stopped.
"What?"
"Mommy sang that."
Dante stood unseen outside the half-open door.
Bella pointed toward the wall.
"Mommy cried."
Sarah's pulse quickened.
"When?"
Bella frowned.
Children's memories were strange things, especially memories formed before language had fully settled.
"Car."
Mia hugged her knees.
"Mommy sang. Then boom."
Dante entered.
"Mia."
The child recoiled.
Sarah immediately raised a hand.
"Don't."
Dante stopped.
It hurt.
His own daughter feared his questions.
Sarah lowered herself beside Mia.
"You don't have to remember."
Mia looked at her.
Sarah hummed the final verse again.
Mia's eyes moved toward the antique dollhouse in the corner.
"Blue lady."
Dante frowned.
"What blue lady?"
Mia pointed.
Sarah walked to the dollhouse.
A miniature woman in a blue dress stood inside.
Sarah lifted it.
Something rattled.
She examined the base.
There was a tiny screw.
Dante retrieved a screwdriver.
Inside the figurine was a memory card.
Nobody spoke.
Marco brought a secure laptop.
The card contained one video.
Isabella appeared on screen.
Pregnant.
Alive.
Dante sat down.
Sarah watched the most feared man she had ever met lose every defense in his face.
"If you're watching this," Isabella said, "then I failed."
She looked directly into the camera.
"Dante, forgive me."
He reached toward the screen before stopping himself.
"I discovered that shipments through Pier Seventeen were being diverted. Weapons, cash, identities. Someone was using our routes without your knowledge."
Dante glanced at Marco.
"Pier Seventeen was controlled by my uncle."
"Victor Moretti," Marco said.
Isabella continued.
"Victor isn't working alone. Someone inside our home is helping him."
Arthur went pale.
"I couldn't identify them. Elena helped me copy the accounts. We divided the evidence because together it was too dangerous."
Sarah understood.
Her mother had hidden part.
Isabella had hidden another.
"The girls know more than anyone realizes," Isabella said.
Dante stiffened.
"They heard conversations. They're babies, Dante, but children remember sounds. Songs. Faces. Voices. If something happens to me, never force them to remember."
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
"Let them feel safe enough to remember on their own."
Sarah looked at Dante.
That explained everything.
The screaming.
The light.
The monsters they could see.
Isabella continued.
"There's one person I trust completely."
Dante leaned forward.
The video distorted.
Static swallowed the next seconds.
Then Isabella returned.
"—if he tells you I'm wrong, believe the evidence, not him."
The recording ended.
"Who?" Dante demanded.
Marco shook his head.
"The corrupted section is gone."
Dante stood.
"Victor."
Arthur looked troubled.
"Your uncle disappeared after Mrs. Moretti's death."
"He didn't disappear. I allowed him to retire."
Dante's face hardened.
"I thought he was grieving."
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
Dante answered.
A familiar voice laughed.
"Dante."
Dante went motionless.
"Victor."
Sarah saw something frightening enter Dante's expression.
"Been a long time, nephew."
"Where are you?"
"Close enough."
"What do you want?"
"The girl."
Sarah's blood chilled.
Dante looked at her.
"No."
"Then Toby dies."
Sarah spun toward the hallway.
Dante's eyes sharpened.
He signaled Marco.
Marco ran.
Victor laughed.
"You still think locked doors make people safe."
Dante raced upstairs.
Toby's room was empty.
One guard lay unconscious.
The window stood open.
Sarah stared at the empty bed.
"No."
Her phone rang.
She answered.
"Toby?"
Her brother was crying.
"Sarah, don't give them anything."
Someone struck him.
Sarah screamed his name.
Victor took the phone.
"Tomorrow. Midnight. Pier Seventeen."
Dante reached for it.
Victor continued.
"Bring Sarah and Isabella's evidence."
"We don't have it."
"Then you'd better find it."
The call ended.
Sarah looked at Dante.
"I'm going."
"No."
"He's my brother."
"And Victor will kill you both."
"You don't get to decide."
Dante stepped closer.
"That's exactly what Isabella died trying to prevent me from doing."
Sarah froze.
His voice dropped.
"I spent three years believing control could keep my daughters alive. More guards. More walls. More rules. They got worse."
He looked toward the nursery.
"Then you walked in and turned off the lights."
Sarah's anger softened.
Dante looked back at her.
"So no. I won't order you."
A pause.
"But if you go, I'm going with you."
"Why?"
"Because your mother asked me to protect you."
"That's not the real reason."
Their eyes held.
For the first time, Dante had no answer ready.
Then Arthur appeared.
"Sir."
He carried an envelope.
"This was delivered downstairs."
Dante opened it.
Inside was a photograph taken less than an hour earlier.
Mia and Bella asleep in their beds.
Sarah's stomach dropped.
Someone had been inside the nursery.
May you like
On the back were six words.
YOU'RE STILL TRUSTING THE WRONG PERSON.
