Chapter 9 - The Child in the PhotographGrace had taken Emily.
Vincent knew that immediately.
He searched the underground corridor.
No sign of her.
Dominic found a hidden elevator.
It led directly to the east wing.
They emerged behind the laundry room.
The estate was chaos.
Guards were searching every hallway.
Vincent shouted:
“Find Grace!”
A guard ran toward him.
“She took one of the service cars.”
“Which direction?”
“North.”
Vincent's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Grace's voice came through.
“Don't come after us.”
Vincent froze.
“Where is Emily?”
“With me.”
“Is she safe?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you take her?”
Grace began crying.
“Because Sofia told me to.”
Vincent's expression tightened.
“Where are you?”
“I can't say.”
“Grace.”
“She said when the time came, you would not know who to trust.”
Vincent looked at Dominic.
“Did Sofia tell you about Luca?”
“Yes.”
“Then where is my son?”
Grace was silent.
Vincent's heart pounded.
“Grace.”
Finally she whispered:
“He's alive.”
“Where?”
“I can't tell you.”
“You have five seconds.”
“I was told never to say it.”
Vincent slammed his fist against the wall.
“Grace!”
She whispered:
“Look under the dining table.”
The line went dead.
Vincent stared.
“What?”
Dominic frowned.
“The dining table?”
They rushed into the dining room.
The table was enormous.
Old oak.
Imported from Italy.
Vincent remembered Sofia loved sitting there during Christmas.
Dominic crouched.
“There.”
A tiny metal plate had been screwed beneath the table.
It contained a fingerprint scanner.
Vincent pressed his thumb.
The plate clicked open.
Inside was a memory card.
Vincent removed it.
A video file appeared.
He played it.
Sofia appeared on screen.
Older.
Thinner.
Bruised.
But alive.
Vincent nearly stopped breathing.
She looked directly into the camera.
“If you're seeing this, Vince, I failed to come home.”
He swallowed.
“I need you to forgive me.”
She looked down.
“Luca was born three years ago.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“I hid him because Charles discovered where I was keeping him.”
Sofia's eyes filled with tears.
“He threatened to kill our son.”
A pause.
“So I made a deal.”
Vincent stared at the screen.
“I told him I'd disappear.”
“In exchange for Luca's life.”
The video shook slightly.
“I thought I could survive long enough to come back.”
She smiled sadly.
“I was wrong.”
Vincent whispered:
“I would have come for you.”
Sofia looked straight at the camera.
“That is why I stayed away.”
Vincent felt tears in his eyes.
“If you had come, they would have killed you too.”
The video paused.
Then Sofia said:
“There is one thing you must know.”
She held up a photograph.
It showed Isabella.
“She isn't your enemy.”
Vincent frowned.
“She is the reason I'm alive.”
The image changed.
Isabella was sitting beside Sofia in a hospital room.
They looked exhausted.
Sofia continued:
“My sister has been pretending to work for Charles.”
Vincent stared.
“She has been feeding him false information for three years.”
A new image appeared.
Isabella standing beside Charles.
Then another.
Isabella secretly handing food to Sofia.
Then another.
Isabella holding Luca.
Vincent exhaled.
Sofia whispered:
“If Isabella tells you to run, run.”
The video ended.
Vincent sat motionless.
Dominic lowered his head.
“I knew some of it.”
Vincent looked at him.
“You always know some of it.”
Dominic didn't reply.
The phone rang again.
Vincent answered.
This time it was Isabella.
“Where are you?”
“At the estate.”
“Then listen.”
Her breathing was fast.
“Charles found Luca.”
Vincent stood immediately.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You're with him?”
“No.”
“Then who took my son?”
A long silence.
Then Isabella whispered:
“Your father.”
Vincent froze.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Isabella's voice trembled.
“The man who kidnapped Luca isn't Charles.”
Vincent's blood ran cold.
“Who is it?”
She whispered:
“The man who has been pretending to help you.”
The line cut.
Dominic's expression hardened.
Vincent slowly turned toward him.
May you like
Dominic stared back.
And for the first time in their twenty-year friendship, neither man lowered his weapon.
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