Chapter 7 - THE HIDDEN TRUTH
The station was a blur of chaos.
Agents were bagging evidence, handcuffing Keller, and dragging Vanessa away as she screamed profanities at Eleanor.
Eleanor stood near the exit, chatting casually with Agent Harris.
Nobody was looking at me.
I was just the frightened maid holding her child.
I pulled Leo toward the women's restroom.
"Mommy, my arm hurts," Leo whimpered as we pushed through the swinging door.
"I know, baby. I know. We're almost done," I whispered, kissing his forehead.
I locked us inside a handicap stall.
I sat Leo on the toilet seat.
My hands were shaking violently.
I grabbed his little red winter coat.
I felt the lining near the bottom hem.
There.
A hard, rectangular lump, about the size of a matchbook, sewn deep inside the insulation.
"Leo," I asked softly. "Who gave you this coat?"
Leo looked up, his big brown eyes filled with innocence.
"The nice lady."
My chest tightened. "What nice lady?"
"The one at the park," Leo said. "A long time ago. Before Daddy went to heaven."
I stopped breathing.
Four years ago.
Eleanor hadn't just hidden something in my apartment.
She had approached my son.
I used my teeth to rip the seam of the coat.
I pulled out a small, waterproof plastic pouch.
Inside the pouch was a tiny USB drive.
I stared at it.
If Eleanor just handed the FBI the "real" ledger... what the hell was this?
Suddenly, I remembered Luca's words in the study.
David found out she had it. He was trying to bring it to me the night he was killed.
David didn't doctor the accounts for Eleanor.
David found out what Eleanor was doing. He stole the real evidence to give to Luca.
And before Eleanor could catch him, David hid it.
He didn't hide it in the cedar box.
He hid it in the coat Eleanor had bought for Leo, knowing she would never look there.
Eleanor didn't have the real ledger.
She had handed the FBI a fake. A fabricated book designed to frame Luca for her crimes.
And the real proof—the proof that would exonerate Luca and put Eleanor away forever—was sitting in the palm of my hand.
I squeezed the USB drive so hard it dug into my skin.
I had to get it to someone I could trust.
But who? The FBI was working with Eleanor.
I couldn't go to the police.
I grabbed my phone.
I still had the lockbox Luca gave me. Fifty thousand dollars. Two passports.
We could run.
We could disappear.
But I looked at the USB drive.
Luca had saved my son tonight. He had walked into a trap to keep Leo safe.
I couldn't leave him to take the fall.
I dialed a number.
"Hello?"
"Daniel," I said.
Luca's head of security paused. "Sophie? Where are you? The boss was arrested."
"I know," I said. "I have something. Something David hid four years ago."
Daniel's tone shifted immediately. "Where are you?"
"Union Station. In the bathroom."
"Stay there. I'm three blocks away."
"No," I said. "I'm not waiting here. The FBI is everywhere."
"Sophie, listen to me," Daniel said urgently. "Do not trust anyone. Eleanor has people inside the Bureau. If they find you with that drive, you and your son are dead."
"Where do I go?"
"There's a Catholic church on 4th and Elm. St. Jude's. Go to the confessional in the back. Wait for me."
"Okay."
I hung up.
I zipped Leo into his sweater.
"Come on, baby," I whispered. "We have to be very quiet."
We slipped out of the bathroom.
The Great Hall was clearing out.
I kept my head down, holding Leo's hand tightly, walking fast toward the side exit.
We burst out into the freezing Chicago rain.
I flagged down a yellow cab.
"4th and Elm," I told the driver.
We drove in silence.
The rain lashed against the windows.
Ten minutes later, the cab pulled up to the massive, stone cathedral of St. Jude.
I paid the driver with a twenty from my pocket.
We ran up the stone steps and pushed open the heavy wooden doors.
The church was empty. Dark.
The smell of incense and old wood filled the air.
Candles flickered in the corners.
I led Leo down the side aisle toward the back.
I found the wooden confessional booth.
I opened the curtain, pushed Leo inside, and stepped in after him.
We sat in the suffocating darkness.
I held him tight.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes.
Then, I heard the heavy church doors groan open.
Footsteps echoed on the marble floor.
Slow. Deliberate.
They were coming toward the back of the church.
They stopped right outside the confessional.
The wooden screen next to my head slid open.
"Do you have it, Sophie?"
I froze.
May you like
It wasn't Daniel.
It was Agent Harris.
