Chapter 3 - The Coat in the Hallway
Victor’s words hung in the air, paralyzing the entire room.
At the bottom of the Chicago River.
Daniel let out a sharp, broken gasp. He buried his face in my apron, sobbing violently. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tight as I could, glaring at the monster standing across the table.
Luca didn't scream. He didn't pull a weapon.
He simply looked at his brother, a dead, hollow stare replacing the shock.
“You killed her.” Luca’s voice was completely flat.
“I removed a liability,” Victor corrected, not backing down. “She was going to take Daniel and leave. She was going to the feds, Luca. You were weak for her. I did what had to be done to protect this family.”
“No!” Daniel screamed into my apron. “Mommy wouldn't do that!”
Vanessa was shaking, pressing herself against the wall. “Victor, you said she was just gone! You didn't say she was dead!”
Victor shot her a look of pure disgust. “Shut up, Vanessa. You forged the bank transfer. You’re just as guilty as I am.”
Luca took a slow step toward his brother. “The police—”
“Will find nothing,” Victor interrupted. “My men handled it. The car sank three weeks ago, the night of the boy’s birthday. She’s gone, Luca. It’s over. Marry Vanessa, keep the businesses clean, and let’s move on.”
Answer one. Open two.
Isabella hadn't abandoned her son. She had tried to save him, and it had cost her everything.
But as I held Daniel, a sudden, jarring memory struck me.
Three weeks ago.
The night of Daniel’s birthday. It had been pouring rain. I had been working late, cleaning the mudroom near the back entrance.
“Wait,” I said aloud.
The room went silent again. Luca looked at me.
“Hannah, take Daniel upstairs,” Luca ordered, his eyes never leaving his brother.
“Mr. Moretti, wait,” I said, my voice trembling but clear. “He’s lying.”
Victor lunged toward me, but two of Luca’s guards instantly stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“What are you talking about, Hannah?” Luca asked.
“Three weeks ago,” I said, looking at Victor. “The night of Daniel’s birthday. It rained all night.”
“So what?” Vanessa snapped, her voice frantic.
I looked down at Daniel. “Daniel, do you remember what Mommy was wearing when she came to the gate?”
Daniel sniffled, wiping his eyes. “Her yellow raincoat. The one with the big pockets.”
I looked back at Luca.
“If Victor killed her that night and put her in a car in the river,” I said, “then why did I find her yellow raincoat hanging in the back hallway closet the next morning?”
Victor’s smug expression faltered for a fraction of a second.
Luca saw it.
“Show me,” Luca said to me.
“Luca, this is absurd,” Victor argued, stepping forward, but the guards drew their weapons, pointing them directly at Victor’s chest.
“Show me, Hannah,” Luca repeated.
I took Daniel’s hand. We walked out of the dining room, followed by Luca, and the two armed guards keeping Victor and Vanessa moving ahead of them.
We reached the back hallway, near the servant’s entrance. I opened the heavy oak door of the storage closet.
I reached past the winter jackets and pulled out a bright yellow raincoat. It was still stained with dried mud at the hem.
Luca took the coat from my hands. He recognized it immediately.
He ran his hands over the fabric, his breathing heavy. Then, he slid his hand into the deep right pocket.
He pulled out a silver locket.
Isabella’s locket.
Luca popped it open. Inside was a picture of Daniel as a baby.
“She was inside the house,” Luca whispered, looking at Victor. “She made it past the gate.”
Victor sneered. “So she made it inside before my men caught her. It doesn't change anything, Luca. She’s dead.”
But I noticed something else.
“Mr. Moretti,” I pointed to the inside collar of the coat.
There was a dark, reddish-brown stain on the fabric.
Blood.
But it wasn't just blood. Pinned to the inside of the collar, hidden beneath the flap, was a small, white piece of paper.
Luca saw it. He carefully unpinned the paper and unfolded it.
I watched his eyes scan the words. The color drained completely from his face.
“What is it, Daddy?” Daniel asked softly.
Luca didn't look at his son. He looked at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and hope.
He turned the paper around so I could see it.
It was a hospital visitor’s pass. Dated yesterday.
And the name of the hospital was St. Jude’s—the exact same facility where my mother was receiving chemotherapy.
But it was the name written on the visitor line that made my knees weak.
Patient Visited: Margaret Collins.
My mother.
Isabella had visited my mother yesterday.
Which meant she wasn't at the bottom of the river.
And before I could process what that meant, my cell phone, tucked in my apron pocket, began to ring.
I pulled it out. The caller ID flashed a number I didn't recognize.
I answered it. “Hello?”
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“Hannah,” a woman’s voice whispered through the receiver. She sounded exhausted, in pain, but undeniable. “Is Daniel safe?”
TITLE: The Voice on the Phone
