Chapter 5 - THE THIRD BOY IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
“Michael?”
Dante stared at his father.
Antonio Ferraro held the silver pocket watch so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“Michael called me Uncle Tony,” he said. “Even after he was grown. Nobody else did.”
Dante looked toward Gabriel.
“Our cousin died in a boating accident.”
Gabriel's expression darkened.
“Yes.”
“Then how could Father have heard him?”
Gabriel didn't answer.
Evelyn stepped forward.
“Antonio, sweetheart, are you certain?”
Her husband looked at her with exhausted eyes.
“I know what I heard.”
Dante studied the photograph inside the watch.
Three boys stood beside an old fishing boat.
He remembered that afternoon.
Gabriel had been twelve.
Michael was fifteen.
Dante was sixteen.
Their father had taken them to Long Island.
Michael had spent the entire day teasing Gabriel about being afraid of the water.
Dante remembered laughing.
He also remembered Michael slipping off the dock.
Dante had jumped in after him.
Michael survived.
Seven years later, the family was told he'd drowned during a storm.
His body had never been recovered.
Dante looked toward Gabriel.
“You knew something about Michael.”
Gabriel sat down.
“I suspected.”
“How long?”
“About six years.”
Dante stepped closer.
“Six years?”
Gabriel looked ashamed.
“After Father began questioning the original hospital records, I reopened the old accident investigation.”
“And?”
“The boat was recovered. Michael's jacket was recovered. But there was no evidence anyone went overboard.”
Dante stared.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Gabriel laughed bitterly.
“You wouldn't have believed me.”
“Try me.”
Gabriel looked toward Antonio.
“Father thought someone had been impersonating you. He believed that person was me.”
Antonio lowered his eyes.
Gabriel continued.
“Someone had been using your signatures. Your identification. Your old business correspondence.”
Dante remembered the companies Vincent had discovered.
“Michael?”
“I don't know.”
“But you knew he might be alive?”
“I knew the story about his death didn't add up.”
Dante turned toward Vincent.
“Find everything connected to Michael Ferraro.”
Vincent nodded and stepped into the hallway.
Antonio sat beside the window.
Evelyn approached him.
For a long moment, they looked at each other.
Then she reached for his hand.
“I thought I'd never see you again.”
Antonio closed his eyes.
“Neither did I.”
She touched his cheek.
“You've gotten so thin.”
He smiled sadly.
“And you've gotten more beautiful.”
Evelyn laughed through her tears.
It was the first genuine laugh I'd heard from her in months.
Watching them, I felt something tighten in my chest.
Sixteen years.
Sixteen birthdays.
Sixteen Christmases.
All stolen from two people who had once expected to grow old together.
Then Antonio noticed me.
“Who is this young lady?”
Evelyn smiled.
“Madison Clark. She looks after me.”
Antonio nodded politely.
“Thank you for helping my wife.”
I shook my head.
“She helps me too.”
Evelyn squeezed my hand.
Dante looked toward us.
His expression softened.
Then Gabriel spoke.
“Madison, may I ask you something?”
I turned.
“Of course.”
“Has Mother been taking any medication recently?”
I hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Something Isabella said was prescribed for anxiety.”
Gabriel looked toward Antonio.
His father's expression changed.
“What medication?”
“I don't know the name.”
Dante stepped closer.
“Madison, did Isabella give it to her?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Every evening.”
Antonio suddenly stood.
“Gabriel, the same thing happened to me.”
Everyone went silent.
“What do you mean?” Dante asked.
Antonio looked toward the bedside cabinet.
“When I first came here, I was taking medication after my heart surgery. Later, someone changed it.”
“Who?”
“I never knew.”
He pointed toward a small wooden medicine box.
“I stopped taking the tablets last year after noticing they made me confused.”
Gabriel walked toward the cabinet.
Inside were several prescription bottles.
Vincent returned as Gabriel placed them on the table.
Dante looked at the labels.
“Vincent, have our doctor review these immediately.”
Then he turned toward me.
“Do you know where Mother's medication is kept?”
“In her bedroom.”
“Make sure nobody touches it until we return.”
I nodded.
But something bothered me.
Three nights earlier, I'd seen Isabella standing outside Evelyn's bedroom with a small brown medicine bottle.
She had looked frightened.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
Frightened.
“Mr. Ferraro,” I said.
Dante turned.
“Your sister wasn't always the one giving Mrs. Ferraro her tablets.”
He frowned.
“Who else?”
“I don't know. But I saw Isabella take a bottle away from your mother's nurse last Tuesday.”
Gabriel's face changed.
“What nurse?”
“Mrs. Ferraro's evening nurse. Caroline Reed.”
Antonio gripped the chair.
“Caroline?”
I nodded.
He stared at Gabriel.
“That's the same name as the nurse who treated me in Albany.”
Dante looked toward Vincent.
“Find her.”
Vincent checked his tablet.
Then frowned.
“Boss, according to the employment records, Caroline Reed has been working for the Ferraro family for seventeen years.”
Dante stared.
“Seventeen?”
Vincent nodded.
“She was assigned to your father's medical team before his reported death.”
Antonio slowly sat.
“Then she never left us.”
Gabriel looked toward the window.
“And if she's still working inside the mansion, she knows we've discovered the photograph.”
Dante reached for his phone.
He instructed his security team to protect Evelyn's bedroom and preserve every medical record.
Then he turned toward his father.
“I'm taking you home.”
Antonio shook his head.
“Not until we know who betrayed us.”
“Dad, you've been hidden here for sixteen years.”
“And I've survived because I learned not to trust appearances.”
Dante looked hurt.
Antonio noticed.
He slowly approached his son.
“You were always my strongest boy.”
Dante swallowed.
“Then why didn't you trust me?”
Antonio's eyes filled.
“Because somebody made me believe you wanted me gone.”
He opened the silver pocket watch again.
Then removed the photograph.
Behind it was a tiny folded strip of paper.
He handed it to Dante.
“I found this inside my medical records six months ago.”
Dante unfolded it.
There was an address in Manhattan.
Beneath it, four words.
THE FIRST BETRAYAL STARTED HERE.
Dante read the address aloud.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
It was familiar.
Painfully familiar.
It was the address of the apartment building where my younger sister, Hannah, lived.
Dante noticed my reaction.
“Madison?”
I couldn't speak.
He stepped closer.
“What's wrong?”
I looked at the paper again.
Then whispered:
“My sister's apartment is there.”
Gabriel stood.
Antonio stared at me.
And Evelyn suddenly squeezed my wrist.
“Madison, sweetheart, what's your mother's maiden name?”
I swallowed.
“Vale.”
Antonio dropped the pocket watch.
Evelyn covered her mouth.
Dante turned toward his father.
“What is it?”
May you like
Antonio looked at me with tears in his eyes.
“MARTIN VALE HAD TWO DAUGHTERS. AND SIXTEEN YEARS AGO, HE BEGGED ME TO PROMISE THAT IF ANYTHING HAPPENED TO HIM, I'D NEVER LET THE FERRARO FAMILY FIND THEM.”
