Chapter 4: The Woman Who Came Back from the Dead
Vanessa Bellini pointed her gun at Michael Moretti, but she kept her eyes on me.
That frightened me more than the weapon.
“Put it down, Vanessa,” Michael said.
She laughed and adjusted the diamond bracelet on her wrist, as if we were discussing dinner plans instead of deciding who would leave the chapel alive.
“You always did mistake a calm voice for authority, Michael.””
“And you always mistake money for intelligence.””
Her smile vanished.
One of the men behind her raised his gun toward Michael's guards. Outside, another burst of gunfire shattered the chapel windows. Glass rained across the pews.
I ducked behind the stone pillar.
Michael pushed me lower, covering my head with his arm.
“Stay down,” he ordered.
“I need to know what she meant about the fire!””
“Now is not the time.””
“Then when?””
“When you're not standing between two people who want to kill you.””
Vanessa heard him.
“Oh, don't pretend you're protecting her. You have no idea what that girl is.””
Michael slowly rose, keeping his hands visible.
“I know what you are.””
“Do you?”” Vanessa tilted her head.
“Then tell her what happened the night Elena died.””
He said nothing.
Vanessa stepped closer to the altar.
“Go on, Michael. Tell your precious Anna why the hospital burned. Tell her why you signed those papers. Tell her why you spent twenty-eight years searching for a daughter you already knew was alive.””
My blood turned cold.
Michael's expression didn't change, but his right hand tightened.
“You're lying.””
“Am I?””
Vanessa reached into her handbag and withdrew a folded document.
“I brought a copy of your original agreement with my father. His signature. Yours.
The doctor's. Everyone's.””
She dropped it onto the altar.
“Your father paid mine to make Elena disappear. In exchange, the Bellinis received access to your family's shipping routes. Babies were moved through those routes along with everything else.””
I stared at her.
“Babies?””
Vanessa looked at me with the bored expression of someone explaining an obvious fact to a child.
“Your mother worked at Saint Agnes. She discovered that newborns were being stolen and their records rewritten. She threatened to expose everyone involved.””
“And you burned the hospital?””
“Not me.””
“Who did?””
Vanessa's smile returned.
“Your beloved Michael.””
For one second, I couldn't hear the rain or the gunfire.
I heard only the pounding of my heart.
I looked at Michael.
“Tell me she's lying.””
He held my gaze.
“I didn't start the fire.””
“That's not what I asked.””
His silence answered me more clearly than words.
Vanessa seized the moment.
“Michael ordered the hospital evacuated after discovering that Elena had hidden evidence inside the maternity ward. His men blocked the east entrance to keep the police from entering before they could retrieve it.””
Michael's voice cut through hers.
“My father gave that order.””
“And you carried it out.””
“I was twenty-nine years old. I was told the building was empty.””
“You never checked.””
His jaw tightened.
“No.””
Vanessa turned toward me.
“There it is. The truth. The man who claims to have protected your mother helped seal the building where she was trapped.””
I felt sick.
Michael took a step toward Vanessa.
“Enough.””
She lifted the gun.
“Another step and I'll shoot you.””
He stopped.
For the first time, I saw something almost human in Vanessa's face. Not remorse. Not fear of punishment.
Resentment.
The kind that had been fed for years until it became more powerful than reason.
“You think you're better than us,” she said to Michael.
“Your family killed people, bribed judges, and bought entire police departments. But somehow you became the noble man who wanted to clean everything up.””
She laughed bitterly.
“My father died believing you would destroy the Bellinis and take everything for yourself. And you know what the worst part is?””
She leaned closer.
“He was right.””
A sharp crack sounded behind her.
One of Michael's guards had entered through the side door. He struck Vanessa's gun hand with the butt of his weapon.
Her pistol fell.
Michael lunged forward, but Vanessa kicked the gun beneath a pew and grabbed a small object from her handbag.
A remote detonator.
“Don't move!”” she screamed.
Everyone froze.
Her thumb hovered over the button.
“You have thirty seconds,” she said.
“I wired the chapel before I came here.””
Michael looked toward the wooden beams above us.
“Vanessa, if you detonate anything in this building, you'll die with us.””
“Maybe.””
She turned toward me.
“But she won't.””
My stomach dropped.
“What?””
Vanessa pointed the remote at the chapel doors.
“Your brother is outside. My men have him. If I press this button, the explosives beneath the western wall will collapse the entire entrance.
Michael might survive. I might survive.””
Her eyes hardened.
“Your brother won't.””
I looked at Michael.
He gave the smallest shake of his head.
Don't move.
But I had spent six weeks searching for Luca. I had spent the past hour learning that my entire life might be built on a lie.
I wasn't going to let another person use my brother as a bargaining chip.
“Let him go,” I said.
Vanessa laughed.
“Why? So he can tell you what he knows?””
“Because he's innocent.””
“Innocent?”” Vanessa repeated.
“Anna, innocence is just a story people tell themselves when they can't afford the truth.””
She stepped toward me.
“Your brother stole something from my family. Something that could destroy everyone involved in Saint Agnes.””
“What did he steal?””
Vanessa's smile faded.
“A ledger.””
Michael's eyes narrowed.
“What ledger?””
“The original records. Every child. Every payment. Every name.””
I understood then.
Luca hadn't disappeared because he had betrayed Michael.
He had disappeared because he had discovered the truth.
Vanessa pressed the remote against her palm.
“Bring me the ledger, Anna, and I'll give you your brother.””
“I don't have it.””
“Your mother does.””
She watched my face change.
Then she smiled.
“Ah. So you didn't know.””
Before I could ask what she meant, a gunshot rang through the chapel.
Vanessa staggered.
Blood spread across the front of her cream-colored coat.
Michael caught her before she hit the floor.
The remote slipped from her hand and skidded across the stone.
A man stood in the doorway, holding a smoking pistol.
I recognized him.
Daniel Cross.
The father of the missing seventeen-year-old girl.
He lowered his weapon and looked at Vanessa with an expression of pure hatred.
“You took my daughter,” he said.
Vanessa coughed.
“Daniel…”
“You promised she would be safe.””
“She is…”
“You put her in that hospital.””
Michael turned sharply toward him.
“What did you just say?””
Daniel's gun shook.
“My daughter was born at Saint Agnes. I found her birth certificate three days ago. It says she died at birth.””
Vanessa tried to speak, but blood bubbled at the corner of her mouth.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Where is she?””
Vanessa looked at me.
For a moment, her face softened.
It was so unexpected that I almost believed she was about to confess everything.
Instead, she whispered, “Ask Elena.””
Then her eyes rolled backward.
Michael pressed his fingers against her neck.
“She has a pulse,” he said.
“Call an ambulance.””
Daniel stood motionless.
“You're saving her?””
“I'm keeping her alive long enough to answer questions.””
Outside, sirens began to approach.
I turned toward the chapel doors, searching for Luca.
He wasn't there.
A guard hurried inside.
“Sir! We've secured the perimeter. But the prisoner is gone.””
My heart stopped.
“What prisoner?”” I demanded.
The guard looked at Michael.
“Luca Reed. He was being held in the second vehicle. Someone took him during the shooting.””
Michael rose slowly.
His face had gone frighteningly still.
“Who?””
The guard swallowed.
“We found one of the drivers unconscious. Before he lost consciousness, he said a woman arrived in a black car.””
“Did he give you a name?””
The guard looked at me.
“Yes, sir.””
Michael's voice dropped.
“Say it.””
The guard hesitated.
Then he spoke the name that made the entire chapel seem to tilt around me.
“Elena Moretti.””
At that moment, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message.
*Your brother is alive. Come to the place where you were born. Come alone, Anna. If Michael follows you, you'll never see Luca again.*
Below the message was an address.
And a photograph of a woman standing beside an ambulance outside Saint Agnes.
May you like
The woman had been dead for twenty-eight years.
Or so Michael had told me.
