Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN AT THE GATE
For several seconds, Hannah Parker forgot how to breathe.
The hallway around her seemed to disappear.
Dominic Romano stood five feet away with his dead mother’s photograph in one hand and an old cassette recorder in the other. Caleb remained beside him in oversized pajamas, gripping the sleeve of his father’s shirt.
Leo Grant still held the security phone.
And outside the mansion, according to the camera image on that screen, stood a gray-haired woman Hannah had not seen since she was fifteen years old.
Evelyn Parker.
Her grandmother.
The woman who had disappeared from Hannah’s life without an explanation.
“Let her in,” Hannah whispered.
Dominic studied her.
“You know her?”
“She raised me for three years after my mother died.”
“And then?”
“She left.”
“Why?”
“I never knew.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Nothing about him moved except his gaze, but Hannah had worked around him long enough to know that meant his mind was moving very quickly.
Leo lowered the phone.
“Boss?”
“Bring her to the east sitting room. Search her first.”
Hannah looked at Dominic.
“That’s my grandmother.”
“And somebody locked my eight-year-old son in the snow tonight because of a key connected to my brother’s death.”
His voice remained calm.
“I’m not assuming anything anymore.”
Hannah couldn’t argue with that.
Dominic turned to Caleb.
“You’re staying upstairs.”
The boy instantly shook his head.
“Dad—”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“But she knows about Uncle Anthony.”
“And I know you were barefoot outside twenty minutes ago.”
Caleb’s chin dropped.
Dominic crouched.
His voice softened.
“Tonight, your job is to stay where I know you’re safe.”
Caleb looked toward Hannah.
“Can Hannah stay with me?”
Hannah’s heart pulled.
Before she could answer, Dominic did.
“She needs to hear this.”
Caleb’s disappointment showed immediately.
Dominic touched the back of his neck.
“I’ll send Mrs. Alvarez.”
That seemed to satisfy him.
Barely.
Five minutes later, Hannah entered the east sitting room beside Dominic.
Evelyn Parker stood near the fireplace.
She was seventy-two now, smaller than Hannah remembered, with silver hair twisted into a low knot and deep lines around eyes that had always seemed sad even when Hannah was a child.
She still held Caleb’s blue winter coat.
The moment she saw Hannah, her face broke.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Hannah stopped several feet away.
Seventeen years of questions rose at once.
Where did you go?
Why didn’t you call?
Why did you leave me with Aunt Rebecca?
Why did you send birthday cards without return addresses?
But only one came out.
“Why are you here?”
Evelyn looked at Dominic.
“Because Rose told me one day this would happen.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“My mother has been dead eleven years.”
“I know.”
“You knew her?”
“For almost thirty.”
Hannah turned sharply.
“What?”
Evelyn’s eyes filled.
“There are many things I should have told you.”
“That’s a very convenient sentence after seventeen years.”
“Hannah—”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“You don’t get to walk into the house where I work, tell security you know something about my father, and start with how difficult this is for you.”
Dominic glanced at Hannah.
Something close to approval flickered across his face.
Evelyn nodded slowly.
“You’re right.”
She placed Caleb’s coat on a chair.
“I found that outside the terrace.”
Dominic looked at it.
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
Hannah frowned.
“You were here this afternoon?”
“Not inside. I came to the gate. I lost my nerve.”
“Why?”
Evelyn looked at the photograph Dominic carried.
“Because I knew the woman in that picture would eventually come back.”
Dominic walked closer.
“You mean yourself?”
Evelyn went still.
Hannah looked from her grandmother to the damaged photograph.
The young woman’s face had been scratched away, but the build, the hair, even the shape of the shoulders—
Hannah suddenly saw it.
“Oh my God.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“I was twenty-eight.”
Dominic placed the photograph on the table.
“You were with my mother and Anthony in 2008.”
“Yes.”
“What was your relationship with my brother?”
Evelyn hesitated.
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“This would be a bad time to edit the truth.”
“He was protecting my daughter.”
Hannah stared at her.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
“From whom?”
Evelyn looked toward Hannah.
“Your father.”
Hannah almost laughed from disbelief.
“My father died before I was born.”
“That’s what I told you.”
The room became painfully quiet.
Hannah whispered, “You lied?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was dangerous.”
Dominic stepped closer to the fireplace.
“What was his name?”
Evelyn’s mouth trembled.
“Victor Vale.”
Dominic did not move.
Hannah noticed anyway.
It was the first time that night his control genuinely slipped.
“Vale?”
Evelyn nodded.
Hannah felt cold all over.
“Lauren Vale?”
Evelyn looked at her.
“Victor was Lauren’s father.”
The floor seemed to tilt beneath Hannah.
“No.”
“Hannah—”
“You’re telling me Lauren is—what? My sister?”
“No.”
Evelyn’s answer came immediately.
“Victor Vale was not your biological father.”
That somehow made things worse.
Hannah pressed both hands against the back of a chair.
“Then why did you just call him my father?”
“Because he believed you were his.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Explain.”
Evelyn took a shaky breath.
“Your mother, Sarah, worked for Victor Vale in the late nineties. She handled bookkeeping for several companies he owned. She discovered money moving through charities, construction firms, shell corporations. Millions.”
Dominic’s expression darkened.
“Money laundering.”
“Yes.”
“And Anthony?”
“He found out.”
“How?”
“Sarah tried to leave Victor. He followed her. One night she ran into Anthony at a fundraiser. He helped her.”
Evelyn looked at Hannah.
“Eventually they became close.”
Hannah’s heart started pounding.
“How close?”
Evelyn began to cry.
“Hannah…”
“No.”
Hannah stood straighter.
“Say it.”
“Anthony Romano was your biological father.”
The words hit harder than any scream could have.
Hannah stared at Dominic.
Dominic stared back.
Neither spoke.
She thought about the mansion.
Seven months cleaning its rooms.
Seven months bringing Caleb cocoa.
Seven months passing portraits of Anthony Romano in the west corridor without knowing she was looking at her own father.
“That’s impossible.”
“It isn’t.”
“My mother told Aunt Rebecca my father died overseas.”
“Sarah was trying to protect you.”
“Anthony died when I was—”
“Eight.”
Hannah stopped.
She had been eight years old on October 12, 2008.
The same age Caleb was now.
Evelyn reached into her coat.
Dominic’s hand instantly moved toward his waist.
She froze.
“Photograph.”
Slowly, she pulled out a faded envelope.
Leo stepped forward, took it, inspected it, then handed it to Dominic.
Inside was a photograph.
Anthony Romano stood on a dock somewhere near the Delaware River.
Beside him stood Sarah Parker.
Hannah’s mother.
Between them was a little girl with pigtails.
Hannah.
On Anthony’s shoulders.
Hannah’s knees weakened.
“I don’t remember this.”
“You were four,” Evelyn said.
Dominic examined the picture.
There was no mistaking Anthony.
His older brother.
Smiling.
A version of him Dominic had almost forgotten.
On the back, in Anthony’s handwriting, were six words.
MY GIRLS. SOMEDAY I’LL MAKE IT RIGHT.
Dominic closed his eyes.
Only briefly.
When he opened them, the warmth was gone.
“Who killed my brother?”
Evelyn’s expression changed.
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve had eighteen years.”
“I know who ordered something that night. I don’t know who actually carried it out.”
“Victor Vale?”
“He wanted Anthony frightened. He wanted the evidence Sarah had taken returned.”
Hannah whispered, “What evidence?”
“Documents.”
Evelyn pointed toward the gold key.
“Locker 217.”
Dominic looked at it.
“There is no Broad Street Station.”
“Not anymore.”
“So where is the locker?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Dominic’s frustration sharpened.
“You came here because of the key.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because Lauren called me.”
Everyone went still.
Hannah stared.
“What?”
“Three nights ago.”
Evelyn reached into her purse again.
Leo took the phone this time.
She gave him the passcode.
He opened the recent calls.
Unknown number.
Three nights earlier.
Seven minutes.
Dominic took the phone.
“What did she say?”
“She asked whether Sarah Parker’s daughter was still alive.”
Hannah’s stomach tightened.
“She knew about me?”
“Not at first.”
Evelyn swallowed.
“She said she had found something among Victor’s old papers. A photograph. A name. Hannah Parker.”
Dominic’s gaze shifted slowly toward Hannah.
“And then Hannah gets hired in my house.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“That wasn’t coincidence.”
Hannah felt suddenly exposed.
“What does that mean?”
Evelyn looked devastated.
“Your application was forwarded here intentionally.”
“By who?”
“I don’t know.”
Dominic looked toward Leo.
Leo was already using his phone.
“Pull Hannah’s employment file.”
Hannah turned toward Dominic.
“Are you saying Lauren hired me?”
“No.”
“But somebody wanted me here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dominic looked at the cassette recorder.
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
Leo’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We checked Lauren’s room.”
“And?”
“She’s gone.”
Dominic’s head snapped toward him.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“The guard outside her room is unconscious.”
Hannah inhaled sharply.
Leo continued.
“Bathroom window was open. There’s a service ladder against the west wall.”
Dominic’s voice dropped.
“Lock the property.”
“Already done.”
Then another guard appeared at the sitting room door.
“Mr. Romano?”
Dominic turned.
The guard held a white envelope.
“This was found on Caleb’s pillow.”
Dominic crossed the room and tore it open.
Hannah watched his eyes move across the page.
Then stop.
“What does it say?” she asked.
Dominic handed it to her.
Two sentences had been typed in black ink.
YOU FOUND THE WRONG GIRL.
IF HANNAH WANTS THE TRUTH ABOUT HER FATHER, BRING KEY 217 TO BROAD STREET AT MIDNIGHT.
Hannah looked at the clock.
11:18 p.m.
Forty-two minutes.
Then Dominic noticed something at the bottom of the page.
A handwritten line.
Three words.
ASK LEO WHY.
Dominic slowly raised his eyes.
May you like
Leo Grant stood ten feet away.
And for the first time since Hannah had known him, the security chief looked afraid.
