Chapter 6 - THE EMPTY COFFIN
They left Arthur under guard at the estate.
Adrian refused to let Daniela go alone.
Daniela refused to stay behind.
Evelyn insisted on coming.
Victoria stayed because if Claire was found, she wanted to be there.
So shortly after two in the morning, three SUVs crossed Philadelphia toward the DeLuca family mausoleum.
Rain had begun.
Thin October rain streaked the windows.
Daniela sat beside Adrian in the rear seat.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Finally he said, “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You just learned your entire childhood was connected to my family.”
“Exactly.”
“You haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“That doesn’t make it intelligent.”
She looked at him.
“Is this how you talk to everyone?”
“Mostly.”
“It’s irritating.”
“I’ve been told.”
For the first time all night, Daniela almost smiled.
Then it disappeared.
“Do you believe my mother?”
Adrian looked through the rain.
“I believe she knows things no outsider should know.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
Daniela waited.
He turned toward her.
“I don’t know yet.”
Fair.
Painful, but fair.
“My father died because someone followed me.”
“Your father died because someone chose to kill him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you were seventeen.”
“I still brought the key.”
“My father sent people into dangerous situations when he believed the risk mattered. If he took what you delivered, that was his choice.”
Daniela studied him.
“You’re defending me.”
“I’m stating facts.”
“You always call feelings facts?”
His mouth almost moved.
Almost.
Then the SUV stopped.
The DeLuca mausoleum stood behind iron gates, pale stone beneath the rain.
Marcus met them.
He had rejoined after confirming Mia was safe.
“We swept the cemetery.”
“Anyone?” Adrian asked.
“No.”
Inside, stone crypts lined the walls.
Carlo DeLuca.
Julian DeLuca.
Generations of names.
Then Evelyn’s.
Daniela looked at the living woman standing beside her own grave.
“This is officially the strangest night of my life.”
Evelyn gave a tired laugh.
“Mine too.”
Adrian didn’t laugh.
He stared at the engraved date beneath his mother’s name.
Nine years of grief.
Evelyn touched his shoulder.
He moved away before she could.
Not cruelly.
But clearly.
“I’m not ready.”
Her hand fell.
“I understand.”
Workers Adrian trusted opened the crypt.
Inside sat the polished coffin his family had buried.
Evelyn looked pale.
Daniela stood beside her.
“What was inside?”
“Sandbags.”
Adrian heard.
“You knew?”
“I arranged it.”
He looked away.
The coffin was brought down.
Adrian opened it himself.
Inside lay faded white lining.
Sandbags.
And nothing else.
No ledger.
Evelyn’s face changed.
“No.”
Marcus checked beneath the lining.
“Empty.”
Arthur had beaten them.
Daniela’s stomach dropped.
“How?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Nobody knew.”
“Someone did,” Adrian said.
He examined the screws.
“These aren’t old.”
Marcus crouched.
“Reopened recently.”
“How recently?”
“Days, maybe.”
Daniela thought of Mrs. Russo.
Elena.
Tyler.
Victoria.
Every secret had another secret beneath it.
“Who knew about the coffin besides my mother?”
Evelyn answered.
“Carlo. Thomas. Elena. Me.”
“All supposedly dead,” Daniela said.
“And one of you isn’t.”
Evelyn’s face tightened.
“You think Elena took it?”
“I don’t know what I think.”
Adrian’s phone rang.
Marcus answered his own at the same time.
Both looked at their screens.
Adrian’s call was from the estate.
Marcus’s from his team.
Adrian answered first.
“Yes?”
A guard spoke rapidly.
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“When?”
He looked at Marcus.
“Arthur escaped.”
Daniela stared.
“How?”
“He collapsed.”
Evelyn whispered, “What?”
“Guard thought cardiac event. Ambulance was called.”
Marcus swore.
Adrian continued listening.
The ambulance never reached a hospital.
It was found abandoned six blocks away.
Arthur was gone.
Victoria called immediately after.
Adrian answered.
“Claire?”
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“But someone sent me a message.”
“What does it say?”
“I’m forwarding it.”
A photograph arrived.
Claire.
Standing beside a man whose face had been cropped out.
Behind them was a large blue shipping container.
Written across the image:
BRING THE LEDGER TO PIER 19 BY DAWN OR SHE LEAVES THE COUNTRY.
Daniela frowned.
“Arthur thinks we have it.”
“Or wants whoever has it to reveal themselves,” Adrian said.
Marcus looked inside the coffin again.
“There’s something here.”
He pulled up the bottom fabric.
A small piece of blue cloth was trapped under one brass hinge.
Daniela touched it.
“Same kind of material as my mother’s notebook.”
Evelyn looked confused.
“The ledger had a blue cloth cover.”
“So someone removed it.”
Adrian examined the cloth.
“Recently.”
Daniela looked at Evelyn.
“You said only four people knew.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Carlo is dead.”
“Thomas is dead.”
“Yes.”
“You’re here.”
Evelyn understood.
“Elena.”
Daniela took out her phone.
She called the number her mother had used.
Disconnected.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Mia called.
Daniela answered immediately.
“Mia?”
Her sister sounded breathless.
“Dani, Mom’s gone.”
Daniela went cold.
“What do you mean gone?”
“She was here ten minutes ago.”
“With you?”
“She came to the safe house.”
Daniela looked at Adrian.
Elena had been in Philadelphia.
“Then what?”
“She got a message.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know. She looked terrified.”
“What did it say?”
“She wouldn’t show me.”
“Mia.”
“I tried!”
Daniela heard her sister crying.
“She hugged me and said she loved me. Then she told me if she didn’t come back, I should forgive her.”
Daniela closed her eyes.
“Did she take anything?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“She had an old blue book.”
No one in the mausoleum moved.
Daniela whispered, “Mom has the ledger.”
Adrian took out his phone.
Marcus asked, “Where would she go?”
Daniela looked at the photograph of Claire.
Pier 19.
Arthur wanted the ledger.
Elena had it.
“She’s going after Claire.”
Adrian started toward the entrance.
Then Daniela noticed Evelyn still staring into her empty coffin.
“What?”
Evelyn reached beneath one sandbag.
She pulled out a small photograph.
Old.
Bent.
Four people stood together.
Carlo.
Thomas.
Elena.
And Arthur.
They looked young.
Friendly.
On the back, handwritten:
LIBERTY FOUR — 1998.
Daniela stared at Arthur’s smiling face.
“They weren’t enemies.”
Evelyn turned the photograph over again.
Beneath the first line was another sentence, written in Carlo’s hand.
IF ONE OF US BETRAYS THE OTHERS, TRUST THE FIFTH.
Adrian frowned.
“The fifth?”
Evelyn looked terrified.
“There were only four of them.”
Daniela looked closer at the photograph.
A reflection appeared in the window behind the group.
Someone holding the camera.
A man.
Only part of his face visible.
But Adrian recognized him immediately.
His voice went flat.
“No.”
Daniela looked at him.
“Who is it?”
Adrian stared at the reflection.
“My uncle.”
Evelyn whispered, “Samuel.”
Daniela knew that name too.
Samuel DeLuca.
Carlo’s younger brother.
The man Adrian had publicly mourned six months earlier.
The man everyone believed had died of cancer.
Adrian looked at Marcus.
Samuel wasn’t only possibly alive.
He was the fifth member of Liberty Four.
And according to Carlo’s warning, he was the one they were supposed to trust.
Then Marcus’s phone rang.
He answered.
A guard at the estate spoke.
“Boss, someone just walked through the front gate.”
“Who?”
May you like
The answer made Adrian close his eyes.
“Samuel DeLuca.”
