THE INKs ON THE PAPER WAS STILL WET

“It was her mother.”

The room spun.

I gripped the edge of the hospital bed to keep from falling.

“That’s impossible,” I said, my voice a hollow whisper. “My mother died when I was seven. She had leukemia. I went to her funeral.”

David Mercer stepped into the room, shaking his head.

“You went to an empty casket, Emma.”

Luca lowered his gun slightly, but his eyes never left David.

“Explain. Fast.”

David wiped the rain from his face.

“Ten years ago, Thomas Reed figured out that Vanessa’s father was skimming off the Moretti union funds. But he also figured out something worse.”

David looked at me, genuine pity in his eyes.

“He found out your mother was helping them do it.”

I couldn't breathe.

“My mother? My mother was a kindergarten teacher.”

“Your mother was an addict,” David corrected softly. “She owed the Bellinis a lot of money. When your dad found out, he threatened to go to Luca’s mother, Lucia, with the proof.”

“So the Bellinis burned the office down,” Luca said, piecing it together.

“Yes,” David nodded. “But they didn’t do it alone. Your mother let them in. She gave them the access codes.”

Tears hot and angry spilled down my cheeks.

“You’re lying,” I choked out.

“I’m not,” David said. “When the fire didn’t kill Thomas, just gave him a stroke, the Bellinis panicked. They faked your mother’s death to get her out of the city before Luca’s father started asking questions.”

“Why did she come back tonight?” Luca demanded.

“Because of the ledger,” David said, pointing to the heavy book Luca carried. “Your dad hid it before the fire. He knew the Bellinis would come for it. But nobody could find it.”

David reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded map.

“Until tonight. Vanessa married me seven years ago because I was the clerk who processed Thomas’s safety deposit box. She thought I had the key. I didn’t. Your father gave it to Maria Conti.”

Luca looked at the silver key he had pulled from David’s envelope.

“So why did your mother take Thomas tonight?” Luca asked.

David looked terrified.

“Because she doesn’t want the Bellinis to get the ledger. She wants it for herself. She wants to sell it back to the highest bidder.”

I felt sick to my stomach.

The woman who gave birth to me had sold out my father, faked her own death, abandoned me, and now had kidnapped the man I had spent ten years trying to keep alive.

“Where did she take him?” I demanded, wiping my eyes.

David handed Luca the map.

“She took him to the one place the Bellinis wouldn’t look. The old Moretti estate greenhouse. The one that was abandoned after Lucia died.”

Luca looked at the map. His face went rigid.

“Let’s go,” Luca said.

He grabbed David by the collar.

“You’re coming with us. If you’re lying, you don’t leave that greenhouse.”

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the rusted iron gates of the old Moretti property.

The greenhouse sat at the back of the overgrown garden. The glass was shattered, vines twisting through the iron frames.

A faint yellow light glowed from inside.

We moved silently through the wet grass.

Luca handed me a heavy flashlight. “Stay behind me.”

We stepped through the broken glass doors.

The smell of damp earth and rotting flowers was overwhelming.

In the center of the greenhouse, illuminated by a single lantern, was my father’s wheelchair.

He was sitting slumped in the seat, wearing his hospital gown, shivering in the cold damp air.

“Dad!” I cried, breaking away from Luca and running toward him.

I fell to my knees, wrapping my arms around his frail body.

He looked at me, his eyes wide with fear. He couldn't speak, but he raised his trembling, paralyzed hand and pointed toward the back of the greenhouse.

A woman stepped out of the shadows.

She looked older, her hair graying, her face lined with hard years.

But it was her.

My mother.

She was holding a shovel.