Chapter 13 - St. Jude'sThe hospice had been abandoned for years.
Yet one room still had electricity.
Leo entered.
The smell of disinfectant brought back memories of his mother.
A faint melody drifted through the corridor.
“The sparrow stays…”
Leo stopped.
Someone was singing.
He opened the door.
A woman sat beside the window.
Gray hair.
Thin shoulders.
Scar on the left side of her neck.
Rosalia.
Leo couldn't move.
“Mom?”
The woman turned.
Tears filled her eyes.
“Little sparrow.”
Leo's weapon fell from his hand.
He crossed the room.
He fell to his knees.
For fifteen years, he had imagined his mother's grave.
He had blamed himself.
He had carried grief like a stone inside his chest.
And now she was alive.
She touched his face.
“You grew up.”
Leo cried.
Not quietly.
Not like the man everyone feared.
Like the son she had left behind.
“Why?”
Rosalia held him.
“To save you.”
“Who was after you?”
“My husband.”
“Dad?”
“No.”
Leo frowned.
“Then who?”
Rosalia looked toward the door.
“Your uncle.”
Leo's face hardened.
“He killed Father Luca.”
“Yes.”
“He controls the Rossi family.”
“Yes.”
“He took Clare.”
Rosalia's expression changed.
“Clare?”
Leo nodded.
“She is in danger.”
Rosalia stood.
“Then we are already too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“She is not just Marianne's daughter.”
Leo stared.
“Who is she?”
Rosalia reached for an old file.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Clare Bell.
But beneath it, another name had been written.
Clare Rossi.
Leo's heart stopped.
“She's your granddaughter.”
Silence.
Leo looked up.
“What?”
Rosalia's eyes filled with tears.
“Marianne was not your mother's nurse.”
Leo stared.
“She was your father's secret daughter.”
“What?”
“And Clare…”
Rosalia whispered:
“...is your father's granddaughter.”
Leo felt as if the floor disappeared.
His mother continued.
“The family believed Clare was dangerous because she inherited something from her grandfather.”
“What?”
“The ability to remember.”
Leo didn't understand.
Rosalia pointed toward the file.
“When Clare was four, she witnessed a murder.”
Leo's face tightened.
“What murder?”
Rosalia whispered:
“Your brother's.”
Leo froze.
“My brother is alive.”
Rosalia looked at him.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“The boy you found in the warehouse was not your brother.”
Leo stared.
“He was bait.”
“Then where is Tommy?”
Rosalia's face went pale.
“Your brother?”
“No.”
“Your mother?”
Rosalia whispered:
“Tommy is not Tommy.”
Leo heard footsteps behind them.
He turned.
Clare stood in the doorway.
Blood on her sleeve.
A gun in her hand.
And beside her stood Mrs. Gable.
May you like
Clare looked at Leo.
“I finally remember.”
