Chapter 1 - “Mr. DeLuca... I think your dead wife is hiding behind the old train station.”The pencil in Lorenzo DeLuca’s hand stopped moving.
For a second, the room seemed to lose all sound.
The clock above the fireplace still ticked.
The rain still tapped against the tall windows of his study.
Somewhere downstairs, a phone rang once and stopped.
But Lorenzo heard only the tiny voice standing in front of his desk.
Emma Walker.
Three years old.
Messy brown hair.
A pink sweater two sizes too large.
A stuffed rabbit tucked beneath one arm.
She stared at him with complete certainty.
Lorenzo slowly lowered the pencil.
“What did you say?”
Emma swallowed.
“I saw her.”
He stared at the child.
Men twice his size had lied to his face while staring down the barrel of a gun.
Women had begged him not to destroy their families.
Politicians had called him dangerous.
Judges had refused to meet his eyes.
None of them had ever made his heart freeze like this.
His wife had been dead for two months.
Isabella DeLuca was buried beneath black marble in Saint Vincent Cemetery.
Lorenzo had stood beside the coffin.
He had watched the priest bless it.
He had placed a white rose on top.
He had stood there until the grave was filled.
He had spent two months believing the woman he loved more than his own life was gone.
Yet this child was telling him she had seen Isabella alive.
Lorenzo stood from behind the desk.
“Emma.”
The little girl looked up.
“Did you see my wife?”
Emma nodded.
“What was she wearing?”
“A dark coat.”
“Her hair?”
“Short.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
Isabella’s hair had always been long.
At least, that was how he remembered her.
“And her face?”
Emma thought for a moment.
“She looked sad.”
Something inside Lorenzo cracked.
He stepped around the desk and crouched until they were eye level.
“Where did you see her?”
“Behind the old train station.”
“What was she doing?”
“Hiding.”
“From who?”
Emma looked toward the study door.
Her tiny fingers tightened around the rabbit.
“I don't know.”
Lorenzo lowered his voice.
“Who was with her?”
Emma looked directly into his eyes.
“Bruno.”
The name hit him harder than anything else.
“Bruno?”
“The black dog.”
Lorenzo stopped breathing.
Emma lifted one tiny finger and curled it.
“He had the funny metal ring.”
Lorenzo stared at her hand.
A bent ring.
A crooked hook.
A piece of metal that had once been perfectly round.
Six years earlier, Bruno had gotten his collar caught in an iron fence while chasing a stray cat. Isabella had refused to replace the collar.
“He earned that scar,” she used to say.
The dog had vanished the same morning Isabella supposedly died.
Lorenzo slowly rose.
“Emma, show me where.”
The door opened.
Sophia Walker rushed into the room.
“Emma!”
The maid’s face was pale.
She froze when she saw Lorenzo.
“I’m sorry, sir. She shouldn't have come in here.”
Lorenzo ignored the apology.
“Sophia.”
“Yes?”
“Did you know about this?”
Her eyes shifted toward Emma.
Then toward the floor.
Then back to Lorenzo.
“Sir...”
“Did you see Isabella?”
Sophia said nothing.
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“Sophia.”
Her lips trembled.
“Yes.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Lorenzo's voice dropped.
“Where?”
“The freight district.”
“When?”
“Three nights ago.”
“And Bruno?”
Sophia nodded.
Lorenzo's heartbeat thundered.
“You saw my wife and said nothing?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
Sophia looked toward the window.
“Of the people following us.”
Before Lorenzo could ask another question, the security phone on his desk rang.
Once.
Twice.
He answered.
“Mason.”
His head of security spoke in a low voice.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“A gray SUV has been following Sophia and Emma.”
Lorenzo looked at Sophia.
“How long?”
“Four blocks.”
“When did you notice?”
“After they left the freight district.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
Lorenzo’s expression hardened.
“Where is the SUV now?”
“Gone.”
“Plate?”
“Covered.”
Silence.
Then Mason said something that made Lorenzo's stomach tighten.
“Sir, it wasn't following them randomly.”
“What do you mean?”
“It stopped outside our perimeter.”
A pause.
“It was watching the house.”
Lorenzo looked toward Emma.
The little girl was quietly holding her rabbit.
“Take Sophia and Emma somewhere secure,” he ordered.
“Already done.”
“Good.”
Lorenzo hung up.
Sophia whispered, “They're going to come back.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You saw Isabella.”
“Yes.”
“You saw Bruno.”
“Yes.”
“And someone followed you home.”
Sophia nodded.
“Why?”
She looked at Emma.
Then whispered:
“Because I think Isabella saw me too.”
Lorenzo felt the room grow colder.
“What did she say?”
Sophia hesitated.
“She didn't speak.”
“Then how do you know?”
Sophia's voice broke.
“Because when she saw Emma...”
She swallowed.
“She looked terrified.”
Three-year-old Emma suddenly tugged at Lorenzo's sleeve.
“Mr. DeLuca?”
He crouched beside her.
“What is it?”
Emma pointed toward the study window.
“The bad car was there too.”
Lorenzo turned.
The street outside was empty.
Rain slid down the glass.
But on the wet pavement below, there was something he had not noticed.
Fresh tire tracks.
And beside them...
A single black dog hair.
Lorenzo stared at it.
Bruno had been missing for two months.
If the hair was fresh, the dog had been here.
Which meant Isabella might have been close too.
He stood.
“Get the car ready.”
Mason's voice came through the intercom.
“Sir?”
Lorenzo looked toward the old city map hanging on the wall.
“Take me to the train station.”
Mason hesitated.
“Personally?”
“Yes.”
“Sir, that may be exactly what whoever is watching us wants.”
Lorenzo's eyes hardened.
“Then let them watch.”
He grabbed his coat.
But before he could leave, Emma spoke again.
Quietly.
Almost too quietly to hear.
“She wasn't hiding from you.”
Lorenzo stopped.
“What?”
Emma hugged her rabbit.
“She was hiding because somebody told her you'd be dead too.”
May you like
Lorenzo's hand froze on the doorknob.
And for the first time in two months, he wondered whether Isabella's disappearance had ever really been about death at all.
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