Chapter 6 - THE CHILD WHO WASN’T MIA
“That isn’t Mia’s bracelet.”
The words came from me, but my voice sounded far away.
Marcus frowned.
“It says Walsh.”
“I was still pregnant when Daniel died.”
Adrian examined the bracelet.
“Could Daniel have believed the baby was born?”
“Maybe.”
But something bothered me.
The hospital name printed in tiny letters was St. Vincent’s.
I had never been treated there.
“Daniel was being fed information,” Adrian said.
“False information,” Marcus replied.
“Why?”
I looked at the bracelet again.
“To control where he went.”
Daniel had spent his last days hiding.
If someone wanted to lure him somewhere, telling him his daughter had been born would do it.
Adrian understood at the same moment.
“This wasn’t proof she survived.”
“It was bait.”
Marcus lowered his head.
“And I handed it to him.”
We went to the abandoned City Hall station before dawn.
Adrian brought only Marcus and two trusted men.
Mia stayed at the mansion with Mrs. Alvarez, the housekeeper, under guard.
For the first time since this began, leaving her felt safer than taking her.
The station was beautiful even under dust.
Curved tile ceilings.
Old chandeliers.
Ghosts of another New York.
Adrian walked toward a tiled arch.
“When Daniel and I were boys, our father used to bring us downtown on Sundays.”
“Here?”
“We’d sneak onto the loop after the last stop.”
A small smile appeared.
“Daniel thought abandoned places belonged to anyone brave enough to remember them.”
Behind a loose decorative tile, Adrian found a metal box.
The brass key fit.
Inside were three objects.
A ledger.
A rosary.
And a sealed envelope with Adrian’s name.
He opened the letter.
I watched his face while he read.
“What does it say?”
He handed it to me.
Daniel’s handwriting.
Adrian,
If you’re reading this, stop blaming yourself.
Victor didn’t make you into Dad. Fear did.
You always thought keeping me close would protect me. I thought running would protect Emma.
We were both wrong.
The ledger proves Victor stole from Dad, but that isn’t why I hid it.
Keep reading.
I opened the ledger.
Names.
Payments.
Dates.
Then one name appeared repeatedly.
Marcus Bell.
I looked up.
Marcus stared at the page.
“No.”
Adrian turned toward him.
Marcus shook his head.
“I never received that money.”
The records showed payments going back twenty years.
Marcus had supposedly been Victor’s man all along.
Adrian’s hand moved toward his weapon.
I stepped between them.
“Wait.”
“Emma.”
“Daniel said keep reading.”
I turned pages.
Near the end, the handwriting changed.
Not Daniel’s.
Victor’s.
Beside Marcus’s name was a notation:
M.B. ACCOUNT—USE FOR INTERNAL TRANSFERS. UNAWARE.
Marcus had been framed.
Adrian slowly lowered his hand.
The ledger wasn’t evidence against Marcus.
It was evidence that Victor had used Marcus’s identity to move money.
But another name appeared.
Eleanor Kane.
Adrian’s mother.
“She died when I was twelve,” he said.
Yet payments in her name continued for nine years after her death.
Victor had built an entire financial network using dead people and loyal employees.
“Why would Daniel call this worse than theft?” I asked.
Adrian turned another page.
Then stopped.
There were addresses.
Businesses.
Judges.
Police officers.
Families.
People Victor had apparently paid, pressured, or watched.
Then I found mine.
EMMA WALSH — QUEENS
My knees nearly gave out.
The first entry was dated seven years earlier.
Before Daniel and I moved in together.
Victor had known about me from almost the beginning.
The final notation was made after Daniel died.
NO ACTION. CHILD UNAWARE. CONTINUE OBSERVATION.
“He knew Mia lived,” I whispered.
Adrian’s face went cold.
Victor had lied at dinner.
But why watch us for six years without hurting us?
Marcus found the answer in Daniel’s envelope.
A second sheet.
If Victor is still watching Emma, don’t assume it means he wants her dead.
He’s afraid of what she has.
I laughed bitterly.
“I have a broken watch and a key.”
Adrian looked at the rosary.
“Maybe not.”
It was old, heavy, silver.
I recognized it.
Daniel’s mother’s.
He had once shown me a photograph of it.
Adrian turned the crucifix.
The back opened.
Inside was a tiny strip of microfilm.
Marcus exhaled.
“That’s what Victor wants.”
But the ledger contained one final surprise.
Tucked inside the back cover was a handwritten list of dates.
One matched Daniel’s death.
Beside it were two initials.
V.K.
And A.K.
Adrian stared at his own initials.
I felt the air change.
“You were there?”
“No.”
“Your initials say you were.”
“I wasn’t.”
Marcus looked at Adrian.
Then he looked away.
That was enough.
Adrian grabbed him.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Marcus finally spoke.
“Your car was there.”
Adrian released him.
“My car?”
“Daniel was killed after getting into a black Kane sedan registered to you.”
My stomach turned.
For six years, I had thought Daniel died alone.
Now I knew he had entered a car belonging to his brother.
Adrian looked at me.
“I did not kill Daniel.”
I wanted to believe him.
May you like
Then Marcus said the one thing that made believing him harder.
“Adrian, you told me that night never to ask where you’d been.”
