Chapter 12 - THE MAN AT THE CAFÉ
I didn't sleep for three days.
I sat by my fireplace in Wisconsin, my phone gripped in my hand, waiting.
On the fourth day, the phone rang. FaceTime.
I answered immediately.
Daniel’s face appeared. He looked exhausted, the wind whipping his hair. He was standing on a cobblestone street.
“Daniel? Did you find him?”
Daniel flipped the camera.
He was pointing it across the street, toward a small outdoor café.
Sitting at a table, reading a newspaper, was an older man.
Silver hair at the temples. Dark suit. Open collar.
He looked exactly like Julian. But his posture was different. Stronger.
It was Gabriel Moretti.
“Is it him?” I whispered.
“Watch,” Daniel said.
Thomas walked into the frame, approaching the table.
The man lowered his newspaper.
He looked at Thomas.
He didn't look surprised.
He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, placing it on the table.
Daniel zoomed the camera in.
It was a heavy gold pocket watch.
“He left it for Julian twenty years ago,” Daniel whispered, his voice cracking. “He knew Pierce would try to kill him. He let Julian take his place. He let Julian take the bullet.”
Gabriel stood up. He looked directly at the camera hidden across the street.
He didn't smile.
He just nodded once.
Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowded Geneva streets.
“He’s alive,” Daniel cried softly. “He’s alive and he’s letting us go.”
I watched the screen fade to black.
The mystery was finally, truly over.
Gabriel Moretti had sacrificed his name, his empire, and his life, all so his children could eventually be free.
May you like
I set the phone down.
I looked out at the frozen lake, the gold rosary resting warmly against my chest, and for the first time in my life, I believed in miracles.
