Chapter 10 - The Woman Buried Under Another NameI had spent four years imagining what I would do if someone told me Elena was alive.
I had pictured myself racing through the city, searching every hospital and every airport, refusing to stop until I found her.
I had never imagined standing inside a ruined church, gripping an old doctor's coat, while the man responsible for my daughter's stolen childhood told me that my wife had vanished into a world of false names.
"Who was murdered?" I demanded.
"An emergency nurse named Sofia Reed," Bell answered. "She helped Elena escape the hospital. She was found in her apartment three days ago."
"Who killed her?"
"I don't know."
I tightened my grip.
"You have been lying to me for four years. You will forgive me if I find your ignorance inconvenient."
Bell didn't resist.
"Elena suspected Dante had someone inside the police department. She believed he was monitoring every official record connected to her. After the accident was staged, she wanted to leave Maisie with Nora and disappear long enough to make Dante believe the threat had ended."
"Why didn't she come back?"
"Because she discovered he had ordered the attack."
"On her?"
Bell's expression crumpled.
"On you."
The words settled into my bones.
He explained that Elena had found evidence of a plan to eliminate me during a meeting with the Bellandi family. Dante had intended to take control of the organization, blaming the rival family for my death and launching a war that would eliminate every rival to his leadership.
Elena had interrupted the plan before the final stage.
She had saved me without my knowledge.
But she had not escaped unscathed.
"After the failed attack, Elena disappeared," Bell continued. "I received a letter from her eleven months later. She said she was alive and that Maisie was safe. She gave me instructions to keep the child hidden until Dante's network had been dismantled."
"And you obeyed?"
"I was afraid."
I almost laughed.
Everyone in my life had been afraid.
They had been afraid of Dante, afraid of my enemies, afraid of losing money, afraid of telling me the truth.
And while they trembled, my daughter had learned to call another man her father.
I released Bell.
"Where did the letter come from?"
"Milwaukee."
"Where exactly?"
"I don't know. She used a return address belonging to a closed post office."
Caleb examined the documents from the lockbox.
"Gabriel, look at this."
He pointed to a series of payments transferred through a charitable foundation. The foundation had financed a private rehabilitation center outside Milwaukee.
A patient had been admitted under the name Anna Reed.
Female. Approximately thirty-five years old.
No visitors listed.
No public photographs.
The patient had been discharged under suspicious circumstances two weeks before Sofia Reed's death.
I felt my pulse quicken.
"Find her."
Caleb was already on the phone.
Bell reached into his pocket and removed a small envelope.
"There's something else."
I turned toward him.
"Another secret?"
"One that Elena asked me to give you only if you found Maisie."
The envelope contained a page from a diary.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Gabriel, if you ever see our daughter again, tell her I never stopped loving her.
Tell her I sang the moon song whenever I was afraid.
Tell her that if she remembers nothing else about me, I hope she remembers that love is not the same as possession. I left because staying would have killed her.
I stared at the page until the words blurred.
At the bottom was a telephone number.
Bell looked at me.
"She said you would know what it meant."
I recognized the final four digits.
They belonged to the private telephone line in the house where Elena and I had spent our honeymoon.
The house had been sold after her death.
But the number had never been disconnected.
I called it.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a woman's voice answered.
"Hello?"
My knees nearly gave way.
"Elena?"
Silence.
Then a breath I had imagined hearing for four years.
"Gabriel," she whispered.
I closed my eyes.
For one fragile second, I was no longer a mafia boss.
I was a husband who had found the woman he loved.
"Where are you?" I asked.
Her voice trembled.
"I can't tell you."
"Elena, our daughter is alive. She's here. She's four years old, and she asked me why I missed her birthday."
A broken sob came through the phone.
"I know."
My heart stopped.
"What do you mean, you know?"
"I've seen her."
"Where?"
"Not here. Not yet."
"Elena, listen to me. Dante is coming for her."
"I know that, too."
The line crackled.
Then her voice grew sharper.
"Gabriel, you must listen carefully. Dante isn't the only one you need to fear."
Before I could answer, the call ended.
A second later, a message appeared on my phone.
A photograph of Maisie sleeping in her bed.
Taken inside my house.
May you like
Underneath it were six words.
Bring me the child, or Elena dies.
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