Z

Anna Vale didn’t shoot Luca.

She wanted to.

I could see that.

Her hands trembled around the pistol while six federal agents shouted commands from the hallway.

“Drop the weapon!”

She ignored them.

Luca stood completely still.

“Anna.”

“Don’t say my name.”

“Put the gun down.”

“You promised me.”

“I know.”

“You promised he would never find me.”

“I know.”

“HE FOUND ME.”

Her voice cracked.

Luca didn’t defend himself.

“I’m sorry.”

Anna laughed wildly.

“Sorry?”

I stepped forward.

Every agent screamed at me not to.

Naturally.

“Anna.”

Her gun moved toward me.

Luca’s entire body changed.

I saw it.

She saw it too.

“Stay where you are,” she said.

I did.

“My name is Isabella.”

“I know.”

“You know me?”

“Everyone knows you.”

“Unfortunately.”

For half a second, confusion crossed her face.

Good.

Normality was useful when terror filled a room.

“I’m not here for Damian.”

Her expression hardened.

“You came with Luca.”

“Yes.”

“Same thing.”

“No.”

“Everyone belongs to somebody.”

The sentence hurt because I knew exactly where it came from.

“No,” I said. “They don’t.”

She stared at me.

“Your brother tried to marry me.”

“I know.”

“He locked me inside a chapel.”

“I know.”

“He threatened my life.”

“I know.”

“So trust me when I say I am not working for Damian.”

Her grip weakened slightly.

“Why are you here?”

“Because Grant wants whatever you have.”

Her face changed.

There.

She knew.

“What do you think I have?”

“A recording.”

Anna looked at Luca.

“Did he tell you?”

“Damian did.”

“My brother.”

Her voice changed when she said it.

Not hatred.

Grief.

“Is he alive?”

“Yes.”

“In prison?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Then, quieter:

“Is he okay?”

Complex.

Always complex.

“He’s alive.”

Anna lowered the gun an inch.

“I never wanted him dead.”

“I don’t think he wants you dead either.”

“You don’t know Damian.”

“No.”

I thought of the man behind reinforced glass.

“But I know what it looks like when someone loves badly.”

Anna stared at me.

Then slowly lowered the gun.

Federal agents rushed forward.

Luca lifted one hand.

“Don’t touch her.”

Rachel, behind them, glared.

“This is still my operation.”

Anna placed the weapon on the floor herself.

The agents stepped back.

“Where’s Emily?” I asked.

Anna’s eyes filled.

“Gone.”

My stomach dropped.

“Dead?”

“No.”

“Then where?”

“Raymond took her.”

Luca cursed.

“When?”

“Last night.”

“What happened?”

Anna sat on the edge of the bed.

For the first time, I noticed bruises around her wrist.

“Emily has been moving me every few months since Grant found my old identity.”

“She helped Raymond disappear.”

Anna shook her head.

“No.”

Everything stopped.

“What?”

“Emily didn’t help Raymond.”

“Samuel said she did.”

“Samuel thought she did.”

“Explain.”

Anna looked at me.

“Your aunt helped fake Raymond’s death so the FBI could capture him quietly.”

I stared.

“What?”

“Samuel and Emily were working with one investigator they trusted.”

“Who?”

“Rachel Kim’s father.”

Every head turned toward Rachel.

Her face went blank.

“My father died when I was nine.”

Anna nodded.

“I know.”

Rachel stepped forward.

“His name.”

“Daniel Kim.”

The room changed.

Rachel looked physically shaken.

“My father was an accountant.”

“That was his cover.”

Rachel stared at her.

“No.”

“I have files.”

“Where?”

“Safe.”

Rachel’s voice sharpened.

“Where?”

Anna looked at me.

“Your mother’s foundation.”

Of course.

My life had become a series of hidden compartments inside my mother’s legacy.

“Which building?”

“The first shelter.”

We had already searched it.

Or thought we had.

“What did we miss?”

Anna smiled faintly.

“Caroline was clever.”

“You knew her?”

“No. But Emily talked about her constantly.”

“How did Emily become involved?”

“She discovered Victor helped Raymond after Caroline died.”

That made sense.

“She hated my father.”

“She wanted him prosecuted.”

“What went wrong?”

“Grant found out.”

Rachel sat down.

“My father?”

“Killed.”

Rachel closed her eyes.

A childhood story collapsing in real time.

I knew that feeling.

Anna continued.

“Emily realized Raymond couldn’t stay in federal custody safely because Grant controlled people inside the investigation.”

“So they faked Raymond’s death.”

“Yes.”

“Then what?”

“He escaped anyway.”

“How?”

“Someone tipped him off.”

“Grant?”

“No.”

Anna looked at Luca.

“Matteo.”

Luca went white.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Raymond had Sofia.”

Silence.

Luca stopped breathing.

“What?”

Anna’s eyes softened.

“He threatened your sister.”

“But Sofia died before Raymond’s plane crash.”

“Yes.”

“Then the timeline—”

Luca froze.

I understood before he finished.

“You were lied to about when Sofia died.”

Anna nodded.

“She didn’t overdose at nineteen.”

Luca staggered backward.

I had never seen him lose physical control before.

“Stop.”

Anna did.

His face looked destroyed.

“Luca.”

He held up one hand.

Not now.

I respected it.

Rachel took over.

“When did Sofia actually die?”

“Two years later.”

“What happened?”

“Raymond kept her hidden.”

“Why?”

“To control Matteo.”

Luca turned toward the window.

His uncle hadn’t merely hidden information.

He had traded Raymond’s freedom for Sofia.

And still lost her.

“Did Damian know?” I asked.

Anna shook her head.

“No.”

“Did Grant?”

“Yes.”

Of course.

Nathaniel Grant had spent decades collecting human beings as leverage.

My mother.

Sofia.

Anna.

Matteo.

Victor.

Raymond.

Damian.

Luca.

Everyone was useful to him until they weren’t.

“Where is the recording?” Rachel asked.

Anna looked toward the blue dress.

“There’s a zipper inside the hem.”

I lifted the dress.

Inside the lining was a tiny memory card.

Not cassette.

Digital.

Modern.

Copied.

Smart.

“What’s on it?” I asked.

“Everything Raymond recorded about Grant.”

“Why would Raymond record him?”

“Because criminals trust politicians even less than politicians trust criminals.”

Fair.

Anna looked at me.

“There’s something else.”

“What?”

“Your mother’s final phone call.”

My chest tightened.

“To whom?”

“Emily.”

I could barely speak.

“What did she say?”

Anna looked toward the memory card.

“You need to hear it.”

We returned to Chicago under federal protection.

Luca said almost nothing during the drive.

I didn’t force him.

At the courthouse, technicians copied the files.

Then Rachel played the recording.

My mother’s voice filled the room.

“Emily, listen to me. Victor knows. Nathaniel knows. Raymond is coming.”

A pause.

Then my aunt’s voice:

“Caroline, get out.”

“I’m trying.”

“Where’s Isabella?”

“With Victor.”

My mother’s breath caught.

“No.”

“Caroline?”

“If something happens to me, get her away from him.”

My eyes filled.

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Then my mother said something none of us expected.

“And tell Antonio I’m sorry.”

Luca looked up.

Emily asked:

“For what?”

My mother’s answer:

“For asking him to choose between his family and the truth.”

The recording crackled.

Then Caroline whispered:

“He chose the truth.”

Luca covered his mouth.

His father hadn’t betrayed her.

Not at the end.

The file continued.

A man shouted in the distance.

My mother gasped.

Then one final sentence:

“Emily, if I don’t make it, burn Nathaniel Grant to the ground.”

The recording ended.

Nobody moved.

Rachel Kim looked at the evidence on the table.

Then at me.

“I think we can finally do that.”