Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER WHO HAD BEEN LYING FOR THREE YEARS
“Daniel had nothing to do with this.”
Vincent heard himself say the words before Anna could respond.
She looked at him with weary disappointment.
“That's exactly what you said about Sophia.”
The accusation landed harder than she intended.
Vincent folded the photograph carefully.
“My brother handled some of our aviation contracts. That doesn't make him responsible for the crash.”
“Then ask him why he was there.”
“I will.”
“And ask him why Rebecca was frightened.”
Anna started toward her car.
Vincent followed at a respectful distance.
“Can I see Ethan?”
She stopped.
The question hung between them.
“Vincent, you don't even know whether he's your son.”
“I know what I saw.”
“His eyes?”
“His age. His face. Everything.”
Anna looked away.
“He was born eleven weeks after the crash.”
Vincent went still.
“Eleven weeks?”
“Yes.”
“But you were badly injured.”
“I was.”
“How?”
Anna rested her hand against the car door.
“Early labor. An emergency delivery. He spent weeks in neonatal intensive care.”
Vincent looked down.
He had missed his son's birth.
His first breath.
The nights when Anna had sat beside an incubator, wondering whether her baby would live.
“Was he okay?”
“He is now.”
“And you?”
Anna gave him a sad smile.
“That question is three years late.”
Vincent couldn't answer.
She drove away.
He stood on the sidewalk until Martin called to say Daniel had arrived at the Moretti corporate headquarters.
Vincent went straight there.
Daniel was forty-one, six years younger than Vincent, with the same dark hair but a softer manner.
He had always resented being treated as the irresponsible brother.
“What's this emergency?” Daniel asked.
Vincent placed the photograph on his desk.
Daniel's smile vanished.
“Where did you get that?”
“Anna.”
Daniel sank into a chair.
“So she's alive.”
Vincent gripped the desk.
“You knew?”
“Not until this morning. Sophia told me someone had seen her.”
“Why would Sophia call you?”
Daniel didn't answer.
Vincent stepped around the desk.
“Tell me why you were at that hangar.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“Because the aircraft had a problem.”
“What problem?”
“A fuel-system warning. The maintenance supervisor said the replacement valve wouldn't arrive until the following week.”
Vincent stared.
“Then why did the jet fly?”
“Because the warning cleared after testing.”
“Who authorized the release?”
Daniel swallowed.
“I did.”
Silence filled the office.
“You signed off on an aircraft carrying my pregnant wife?”
“I was told it was safe.”
“By whom?”
“Our maintenance supervisor.”
Vincent turned away before his anger overwhelmed him.
Daniel continued.
“I made a judgment call. A terrible one. But I didn't sabotage anything.”
“Why didn't you tell investigators?”
“I did.”
Vincent turned back.
“What?”
“I told them about the warning. My statement isn't in the final report.”
Vincent felt the first crack in the theory he had begun building.
“Do you have proof?”
Daniel nodded.
He opened his briefcase and removed a thick envelope.
Inside was a duplicate maintenance log.
Vincent compared it with the official copy Martin had recovered.
The entries differed.
In Daniel's copy, the fuel-system warning remained unresolved.
In the official report, the warning had been removed.
“Who changed the record?” Vincent asked.
“I don't know.”
“Why keep this?”
Daniel's voice tightened.
“Because I knew one day you would ask me what happened to your wife.”
Vincent stared at his brother.
“For three years, you let me believe there was no warning.”
Daniel lowered his eyes.
“I was ashamed.”
“Anna could have died.”
“I know.”
“Our child nearly did.”
Daniel looked up sharply.
“Child?”
Vincent said nothing.
Daniel covered his mouth.
“Dear God.”
For a moment, Vincent saw genuine horror in his brother's face.
Then Daniel said something unexpected.
“You need to speak with Margaret Wells.”
Vincent frowned.
“Our old insurance director?”
“She handled the financial settlement after the crash.”
“What does she know?”
Daniel looked toward the door.
“The aircraft was scheduled for another inspection the morning after your flight. Margaret canceled it before the crash report was finished.”
Vincent's blood went cold.
“Why?”
“Because the inspection would have exposed something worse than a faulty valve.”
That evening, Anna sat at her kitchen table watching Ethan draw.
They lived in a modest brick townhouse on Chicago's North Side.
It wasn't luxurious, but it was warm.
Every piece of furniture had been chosen by Anna.
Nothing belonged to Vincent.
Ethan colored a picture of three people standing beneath a yellow sun.
“Who's that?” Anna asked.
“Me.”
“And this?”
“You.”
She pointed to the third figure.
It was a tall man wearing a black suit.
Ethan shrugged.
“The sad man.”
Anna's hand stopped.
“From the party?”
He nodded.
“Is he Daddy?”
Anna looked at her son.
She had promised herself she would never teach Ethan to hate his father.
But she had also promised to keep him safe.
“Yes,” she said softly. “He is.”
Ethan considered the drawing.
“Why doesn't he live here?”
Anna swallowed.
“Because grown-ups sometimes make mistakes that take a long time to fix.”
“Can he fix it?”
“I don't know, sweetheart.”
Ethan picked up a blue crayon.
“Maybe he can try.”
After bedtime, Anna opened the small wooden box Rebecca had left for her.
Inside were copies of maintenance records, a silver necklace with a tiny cross, and a sealed envelope addressed in Rebecca's handwriting.
Anna had read the envelope only once.
At the time, she hadn't understood its significance.
Now she took it out again.
The note said Rebecca had discovered unusual payments connected to the aircraft.
But the final sentence was what frightened Anna.
The emergency wasn't supposed to happen in the air. Someone changed the timing.
Anna was still staring at the words when her attention shifted to the photograph beneath them.
Rebecca had marked one corner with red ink.
There, partly hidden behind the aircraft, stood a woman wearing a cream-colored coat.
Anna hadn't noticed her before.
She brought the photograph closer to the lamp.
The woman wasn't Sophia.
May you like
It was Margaret Wells.
And she was carrying a black case identical to the aircraft's emergency equipment kit.
