Chapter 6 - Mr. RabbitVictor fired first.
The warehouse erupted.
I grabbed Emma and dropped behind a concrete barrier.
Alessandro wheeled beside us.
“Elena!”
“I'm coming.”
She disappeared into the smoke.
Victor shouted instructions.
“West exit!”
A bullet struck the concrete inches from my hand.
Emma screamed.
I pressed her face against my chest.
“Mama!”
“Don't look.”
Alessandro reached toward us.
“Give me the rabbit.”
“What?”
“Mr. Rabbit.”
“Why?”
“Because they aren't after Emma.”
His eyes locked onto the toy.
“They're after what’s inside it.”
I handed it over.
He turned it around.
His fingers found the hidden zipper.
Inside was a tiny compartment.
The black key.
The folded paper.
And something else.
A microchip.
Alessandro stared.
“Elena was right.”
I looked at him.
“What is it?”
“The ledger.”
“How can a whole ledger fit in that?”
“It doesn't.”
He smiled bitterly.
“It's a key to where the ledger is stored.”
Victor rushed over.
“We have sixty seconds.”
Alessandro turned to me.
“I need you to trust me.”
“I've had enough of trusting you.”
He nodded.
“You're right.”
Then Emma spoke.
“Daddy said not to give it to the bad man.”
We all froze.
I looked at her.
“What bad man?”
She pointed toward the warehouse entrance.
A man stepped through the smoke.
Black suit.
Silver hair.
Calm smile.
He looked exactly like Alessandro.
Older.
Colder.
Alessandro whispered:
“Matteo.”
Elena raised her weapon.
“Your uncle.”
Matteo smiled.
“Hello, Alessandro.”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“You should be dead.”
“So should she.”
Matteo glanced at Elena.
Then he looked at Emma.
His smile widened.
“There you are.”
I stepped in front of my daughter.
Matteo laughed.
“Nora, you don't understand what you're protecting.”
“I don't care.”
“You will.”
He raised a hand.
Every gun in the warehouse pointed at us.
“Give me the chip.”
Alessandro moved forward.
“No.”
Matteo smiled.
“Then I'll give you something instead.”
He pulled out a photograph.
My breath caught.
It was Daniel.
Alive.
Sitting in a chair.
Bruised.
Looking directly into the camera.
On the back of the photograph was one sentence.
I read it twice.
HE HAS YOUR DAUGHTER’S REAL NAME.
Emma looked at the photograph.
Then she began crying.
“That's Daddy.”
Alessandro looked at me.
“Nora…”
“What?”
His face was grim.
“We have a bigger problem.”
“What?”
May you like
He pointed at Emma.
“She may not be Emma.”
