Chapter 4 - THE FACE IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
The room spun.
“Twins?” I choked out. “Where is the other child?”
“I don’t know,” Luca said. “But the files show Richard Bellini signed an unauthorized transfer order three hours after they were born.”
I looked over at Lucy. She was staring blankly at the television, unaware that her entire world was a lie. Unaware she had a sibling stolen from her.
“Luca, Lucy just told me something. Richard was with Vanessa when she visited Anna’s apartment two days ago. He’s not running from Vanessa. They’re working together.”
Silence on the line. Then, “Stay exactly where you are.”
The line went dead.
I paced the living room, my mind racing. My mother’s handwriting on the ticket. Richard Bellini taking a child. Vanessa orchestrating the cover-up.
How did a waitress from the South Side fit into the Bellini syndicate’s darkest secret?
I needed to know. I pulled out my phone and called my younger sister, Sarah.
She picked up on the second ring. “Em? Are you still at the mansion?”
“No. Sarah, listen to me carefully. Mom’s old cedar chest in the attic. The one we never open.”
“Yeah?”
“Is there anything in there from the hospital where she used to clean?”
My mother hadn’t just been a waitress. When I was a teenager, she worked the night shift as a janitor at St. Vincent’s.
“Hold on,” Sarah said, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the phone. A minute later, I heard the creak of the old wooden hinges.
“Em, it’s mostly just old clothes. And a small wooden box.”
“Open it.”
I heard a click. Then a sharp intake of breath.
“Sarah? What is it?”
“It’s a rosary,” she said softly. “A solid silver rosary. And... Emma, there’s a name engraved on the back of the cross.”
“What name?”
“Anna Russo.”
My legs gave out. I sank onto the floor. My mother had Anna’s rosary. My mother had the ticket to the locker.
My mother helped Anna hide the evidence.
A heavy knock echoed on the front door of the safe house.
I jumped, my heart hammering in my throat. I looked at Marco, who immediately drew his weapon and moved silently toward the entryway.
He checked the security monitor. His shoulders relaxed.
“It’s the Boss,” Marco said, unlocking the deadbolts.
The heavy oak door swung open.
But it wasn’t Luca.
It was Richard Bellini, flanked by three armed men. And in his hand, he was holding the gold bird lapel pin.
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“Hello, Emma,” Richard said smoothly, stepping over the threshold. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
TITLE: THE MAN AT THE DOOR
