Chapter 02 - The Mechanic Who Died Too Soon

“Her father,” I said.

The answer sounded harmless enough. A mother explaining a child’s curiosity. A widow reaching for the easiest truth and leaving the heavier one buried where it belonged.

But Dominic Romano heard the weight under it.

“His name.”

I did not like the way he asked. Not because he was rude. He was not. His voice remained quiet, controlled, almost gentle. It was the attention behind it that frightened me. Men like Dominic did not ask questions casually. They stored answers.

“Daniel Voss,” I said. “He was a mechanic.”

The name moved through the room strangely.

One guard looked at the other. Dr. Harris stopped pretending not to listen. Dominic’s eyes narrowed, not enough for most people to catch, but enough for me.

“Daniel Voss worked on prosthetics,” Dominic said.

I swallowed.

“For a while.”

“He worked on adaptive medical devices for Romano Recovery Systems.”

My hand tightened around Ellie’s.

“I wouldn’t know. He had a lot of jobs.”

That was a lie, and Dominic knew it. Daniel had been proud of that contract. He used to bring home printed diagrams with half the page blacked out for confidentiality. He would sit at our kitchen table after midnight, explaining hinge tension and emergency-release systems to Ellie before she was old enough to pronounce either phrase. She would laugh and clap her hands when he made little cardboard models open and close.

Then one rainy February night, his workshop caught fire.

They called it faulty wiring.

I called it the night my life ended and kept going anyway.

Dominic’s gaze remained fixed on me.

Before he could speak, Dr. Harris interrupted. “Mr. Romano, we should remove the brace and inspect it properly. The child may have noticed a reversed cosmetic plate, but there is no indication of sabotage.”

Dominic did not even look at him.

“Sit down, Doctor.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“On the floor, if the chair offends you.”

The doctor’s face reddened.

One guard took a step closer. Dr. Harris sat.

Ellie leaned against my leg. I could feel her trembling now. Courage often left her slowly, after the danger had already passed. She had her father’s instinct and my fear.

Dominic extended his hand toward the second guard.

“Tools.”

Within a minute, a black case appeared. Dominic unlatched it himself. Every movement cost him something; I saw the brief tightening around his mouth. He removed a small screwdriver, turned it once between his fingers, then stopped.

“Elena.”

“My name is Mara.”

He looked up.

For the first time since I had entered this house three months earlier, I had corrected him.

A flicker of something crossed his face. Not irritation. Interest.

“Mara,” he said. “Bring her here.”

“No.”

The word came out before sense could stop it.

The guard behind me stiffened. Dr. Harris looked almost pleased, as if waiting for me to make myself disposable. But Dominic only waited.

“My daughter is six,” I said. “She pointed out what she saw. That’s enough.”

Dominic studied me. Then he looked at Ellie.

“You don’t have to come closer.”

Ellie peeked up at him.

“But you’ll take it apart wrong.”

A breath moved through the room. Not quite laughter. Too nervous for that.

Dominic’s mouth almost changed.

“Will I?”

“You have to hold the hinge first. Daddy said never loosen the top screw without holding the weight, or the whole thing shifts.”

The room went very quiet again.

Dominic placed the screwdriver back in the case.

“Then you will tell me where to look, and I will not touch anything until you say so.”

I wanted to take her and run. I wanted to pretend we had never stepped into that room, never seen that brace, never spoken my husband’s name in front of a man who seemed to recognize it. But the doors were locked, and Dominic Romano was not asking for permission from me as much as offering my daughter respect no adult in my life had offered us in years.

Ellie moved forward, still holding my hand.

She pointed at the hinge. Dominic followed her instructions exactly. The first plate came free.

Behind it was a second pin.

The metal had been filed.

Even I could see it then. One edge had been shaved thin, polished just enough to look manufactured, weakened just enough to fail under pressure.

Dr. Harris inhaled sharply.

Dominic looked at him.

“Adjustment error?”

The doctor stood so fast his chair scraped backward.

“I don’t know how that got there.”

“No,” Dominic said. “But I think you know who told you to ignore it.”

Before anyone could move, the room lights flickered.

The rehabilitation monitor on the wall went black.

Then every screen in the room filled with a single image: a black wolf drawn over a red circle.

A voice came through the speakers, low and amused.

“Dominic, you should have stood when I told you.”

Ellie clutched my skirt.

Dominic looked at the symbol, and something old and lethal settled across his face.

“Rafael,” he said.

And I understood that the reversed lock was not the beginning of the danger.

It was a message from a man who had already found a way inside.