Chapter 7 - The Second DaughterThe fake Maria wasn't Maria.
Her name was Elena Cruz.
She had worked inside my organization for three years under a false identity.
She claimed she was planted by Marco.
I didn't know whether to believe her.
But she knew things no outsider could know.
She knew where Camilla hid the basement key.
She knew the dates of Lila's medical appointments.
She knew the password to the old Moretti vault.
Most importantly, she knew about the second child.
I forced her into my office.
Rafael stood behind her.
“Start talking.”
Elena looked at Camilla.
“You knew her name.”
Camilla shook her head.
“I never knew.”
“You held her.”
Camilla's face collapsed.
“Stop.”
Elena placed the photograph on the desk.
“Your daughter was born at 2:14 a.m.”
She pointed.
“Lila was delivered first.”
Then the second infant.
“Her twin was delivered twelve minutes later.”
I looked at Camilla.
“Why did they say she died?”
“Marco.”
Elena shook her head.
“Marco ordered the nurse to declare her dead.”
“Why?”
“Because the child wasn't supposed to exist.”
“Who decided that?”
Elena paused.
Then answered:
“Thomas Voss.”
My hands curled.
“Voss was the accountant.”
“He was more than that.”
“What?”
“Architect.”
I remembered the succession protocol.
All those years of payments.
All those shell companies.
Voss hadn't been working for Marco.
He had been working with Marco.
Elena continued.
“The second child was named Sofia.”
“Sofia Moretti?”
She nodded.
“Where is she?”
“Under St. Gabriel's.”
I grabbed my coat.
“We go now.”
Elena blocked the door.
“You can't.”
“Move.”
“Room twelve is a trap.”
“Lila is there.”
“Maybe.”
I stopped.
“Maybe?”
She lowered her voice.
“Marco has changed the plan.”
“How?”
“He no longer wants Lila's blood.”
“What does he want?”
“You.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Then he can come get me.”
Elena shook her head.
“He doesn't need to.”
She placed another document on the desk.
It showed my signature.
I stared.
“What is this?”
“Power of attorney.”
My signature authorized the transfer of the entire Moretti empire to a trust.
A trust controlled by an anonymous beneficiary.
I had never signed it.
But it carried my handwriting.
My signature.
My fingerprints.
“How?”
“Elena.”
She handed me a photograph.
It showed me sleeping in a hospital bed.
A needle in my arm.
A man standing beside me.
Dr. Hale.
The image was dated five years earlier.
I remembered that hospitalization.
I had collapsed from exhaustion after a warehouse fire.
I had been unconscious for three days.
Someone had used that time to collect my fingerprints.
And apparently my signature.
A plan had been waiting for years.
Rafael looked at me.
“They've been preparing this since you nearly died.”
I nodded.
“Then we stop preparing.”
We entered St. Gabriel's through a service tunnel.
Elena led us underground.
The deeper we went, the colder it became.
The walls changed from concrete to steel.
Rooms appeared on either side.
Some were empty.
Others contained medical beds.
One had children's toys.
My chest tightened.
Then we found Room Twelve.
The door was locked.
A keypad.
Elena entered a code.
Nothing.
She entered another.
The light turned green.
The door opened.
Inside sat a little girl.
Eight years old.
Dark hair.
Pale skin.
She was drawing on the floor.
She looked up.
Our eyes met.
She stared at me.
“Are you Vincent?”
I couldn't speak.
She stood.
“Mommy said you'd come.”
Camilla moved forward.
The girl recoiled.
“Don't.”
Camilla stopped.
“I'm your mother.”
The girl stared.
“No.”
Her voice was quiet.
“You're Lila's mother.”
Camilla began crying.
“What?”
The girl looked at me.
“My mother is gone.”
I knelt.
“What is your name?”
“Sofia.”
Everything inside me broke.
I reached toward her.
She stepped back.
“You don't look like the pictures.”
“What pictures?”
“Of Daddy.”
“Your father?”
She nodded.
“Marco.”
I froze.
“Marco raised you?”
“No.”
She looked frightened.
“Someone else did.”
“Who?”
She glanced toward the ceiling.
“The man in the white room.”
I looked at Elena.
“What white room?”
She didn't answer.
Then Sofia whispered:
“Mommy said never tell Daddy about the door.”
“What door?”
Sofia pointed to the wall.
“Behind you.”
I turned.
A steel panel covered the entire wall.
Rafael opened it.
Behind it was another hallway.
At the end stood a white room.
Inside was a single chair.
And a camera.
The monitor showed Lila.
She was alive.
Sitting upright.
Her eyes were open.
I rushed toward the screen.
“Lila!”
Her lips moved.
“Daddy.”
I touched the monitor.
“Sweety, I'm here.”
She looked past the camera.
Then whispered:
“Daddy…”
“What?”
“Don't let them bring Sofia upstairs.”
A shadow appeared behind her.
A man in a white coat.
Dr. Hale.
He leaned toward the camera.
“Hello, Vincent.”
I stared at the screen.
“You're alive.”
He smiled.
“I've been alive all along.”
“Where is my daughter?”
He pointed.
“Which one?”
The screen split into two images.
Lila.
Sofia.
Then a third image appeared.
Camilla.
Hale spoke softly.
“You thought this was a story about a sick child.”
He smiled.
“It isn't.”
“This is a story about blood.”
He stepped closer to the camera.
“And yours is the blood we need.”
The screen went black.
Behind us, the steel door slammed shut.
May you like
Then Sofia screamed.
“THE GAS!”
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