Chapter 3 - The Little Girl in the Silver Watch
“You knew my father had another daughter, and you let her work in my house as a maid?”
Vincent's voice was dangerously quiet.
Luca stood motionless in the hospital waiting room.
The silver pocket watch lay open between them.
For twelve years, Vincent had believed his father had taken one final secret to the grave.
Now that secret had a name.
Megan Parker.
“Answer me,” Vincent demanded.
Luca rubbed his forehead.
“Father made me promise to protect her.”
“By keeping her identity hidden from me?”
“By keeping Sullivan away from her.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“You had twelve years to tell me.”
“And every time I considered it, I remembered what happened to Rose.”
Across the room, Charlotte looked away.
Vincent noticed.
“What happened to Rose?”
Luca hesitated.
“She tried to tell someone the truth about St. Catherine's. Two days later, Sullivan filed paperwork declaring her medically incompetent.”
Vincent frowned.
“Rose was never incompetent.”
“I know. She fought it. Father helped get the filing withdrawn.”
“And after Father died?”
Luca swallowed.
“Sullivan started threatening her again.”
Vincent felt sick.
He had spent years believing his father controlled every corner of New Orleans.
But apparently one doctor had been controlling a part of his family.
“Why didn't Rose come to me?”
“She didn't trust what our family name had become.”
That answer hurt more than Vincent expected.
He looked through the window toward Megan's room.
“Does she know?”
“No,” Luca whispered. “Not that I know of.”
“Then it's time she did.”
Megan was sitting beside the window when Vincent entered.
The doctor had permitted a brief visit, provided she remained calm.
He brought the silver watch.
“Megan, I need to show you something.”
She smiled faintly.
“Is that your father's?”
“Yes.”
Vincent opened the back cover.
The moment Megan saw the photograph, her expression changed.
She reached toward it.
“That's my mother.”
Vincent nodded.
“And the child?”
Megan stared at the faded picture.
“Me.”
She touched the tiny girl's blonde curls.
“I was about three. Mom used to put ribbons in my hair, but I always pulled them out.”
She almost smiled.
Then she read the engraving.
Protect my daughter, Megan.
Her fingers froze.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent sat beside her.
“My father's name was Arturo DeMarco.”
Megan looked confused.
“He owned a house my mother rented.”
“He bought that house for her.”
“Why?”
Vincent could barely force out the words.
“Because I believe he was your father.”
Megan shook her head.
“No.”
“Luca has a photograph and a message Father left him.”
“No, my mother would have told me.”
Vincent remained silent.
Megan pressed a trembling hand against her stomach.
“My mother said my father was a businessman who couldn't be part of our lives.”
Vincent's eyes softened.
“She may have been trying to protect you.”
Megan stared at the silver watch.
For years, she had wondered why her father had never appeared at birthdays, school graduations, or the hospital when her mother died.
She had told herself she didn't care.
But she had cared.
Every single time.
“Was he ashamed of me?” she whispered.
Vincent felt the question strike somewhere deep inside him.
“I don't know why he stayed away. But I intend to find out.”
She looked at him.
“Even if the answer makes your family look terrible?”
“Especially then.”
Megan handed the watch back.
“Then please don't let anyone decide what happens to my life without asking me again.”
Vincent nodded.
“I won't.”
By morning, Anthony had obtained copies of the hospital transfer papers and the estate's employment records.
Vincent met him in a private conference room.
Luca and Charlotte were waiting.
Anthony placed Megan's original employment application on the table.
“She applied for a housekeeping position eleven months ago,” he explained. “The agency initially rejected her because she lacked formal estate experience.”
Vincent frowned.
“She has worked in my house almost a year.”
“Because someone overrode the decision.”
Anthony turned the page.
A handwritten instruction appeared across the top.
Priority hire. Residential accommodation required.
It carried Charlotte's initials.
Vincent looked at his wife.
“You brought Megan into my house.”
Charlotte folded her hands.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Luca asked me to.”
Vincent turned.
Luca nodded reluctantly.
“I had been checking on Rose's daughter through the agency. After Daniel became ill, their finances collapsed. When he died, Megan needed somewhere to live.”
“You could have told me.”
“I was trying to help her without dragging her into our family problems.”
Vincent looked back at the application.
“Then why did Sullivan know exactly where to find her?”
Luca's silence answered him.
Charlotte spoke instead.
“He found out through me.”
Vincent stared.
“I needed information about Lily. Sullivan said he would only help if I told him whether Megan was living at the estate.”
“So you traded a pregnant woman's safety for information?”
Charlotte's face crumpled.
“I didn't know he would threaten her baby.”
“But you knew he wanted her.”
“Yes.”
“And you still forced her to work yesterday.”
Charlotte looked down.
“I was angry. Vincent, I knew you were beginning to care about her. I thought she was another reminder of everything your family kept from me.”
“She's a widow carrying her husband's child.”
“I know.”
“No,” Vincent said. “You knew her circumstances. You chose not to care.”
Charlotte began crying, but Vincent no longer reached to comfort her.
That afternoon, Anthony arranged a meeting with Detective Elena Ruiz, who investigated financial crimes involving medical institutions.
She examined the transfer authorization and the amended birth certificate.
“St. Catherine's closed in 2011,” she said. “A private organization now operates on that property under a different license. But these documents use the old hospital's name.”
She tapped the certificate.
“And a 2025 amendment listing Charlotte as Lily's mother should have a court order supporting it.”
“There isn't one,” Charlotte said.
Ruiz looked up.
“How do you know?”
“Because Sullivan created it himself.”
“Why?”
Charlotte's voice dropped.
“He told me Lily couldn't be released to her father's family unless someone already in the DeMarco household had legal standing to claim her.”
“And you believed him?”
“I wanted to.”
Ruiz studied her for several seconds.
“Mrs. DeMarco, wanting something badly doesn't make a forged document lawful.”
Charlotte nodded.
“I understand.”
“Not yet,” Ruiz replied. “But you will.”
She arranged for the original paperwork to be preserved and began seeking records from the facility.
Then she asked a question that silenced everyone.
“Who was responsible for St. Catherine's records before it closed?”
Luca answered.
“A woman named Esther Brooks.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes. She's retired.”
“Then I'd like to speak with her.”
Esther Brooks was seventy-one, with silver hair and an unmistakable Louisiana accent.
She agreed to meet Ruiz and Vincent at a public records office.
The moment she saw Megan's childhood photograph, she began crying.
“Lord have mercy,” she whispered. “That's Rose's little girl.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“You knew her?”
“I delivered supplies to Rose when she was hiding from Sullivan.”
“Why was she hiding?”
Esther looked toward Detective Ruiz.
“Because St. Catherine's wasn't just falsifying birth records. Some mothers were told their babies had died when they hadn't.”
Vincent thought of Lily.
“Who ordered it?”
Esther's expression tightened.
“Sullivan controlled the medical records. But he couldn't move children without financial support.”
“From whom?”
Esther lowered her eyes.
“The DeMarco Family Trust.”
Vincent felt something cold settle in his chest.
“My father's trust?”
Esther nodded.
“Rose found out the trust's charitable accounts were paying for placements nobody could explain.”
She opened her handbag and removed an old hospital photograph.
It showed Rose standing beside Arturo DeMarco.
Arturo held a blonde toddler wearing the family crest.
On the back was written:
June 2001. Megan's third birthday.
Vincent studied his father's face.
Arturo wasn't ashamed.
He looked proud.
Almost heartbreakingly proud.
Esther's voice trembled.
“Your father loved that little girl, Mr. DeMarco. Whatever else he did, I know that much.”
Vincent struggled to speak.
“Then why wasn't she acknowledged?”
Esther looked at him.
“Because Rose found evidence that someone was using the family trust to take children from their mothers.”
She paused.
“And when Arturo tried to stop it, someone threatened to expose every DeMarco who had ever benefited from the hospital.”
Vincent's hands tightened.
“Who?”
Esther looked directly at him.
“Someone inside your family helped Sullivan.”
She slid another photograph across the table.
It showed Arturo entering St. Catherine's in 2010 with two men.
One was Sullivan.
The other wore a familiar navy jacket.
Vincent leaned closer.
It was Luca.
May you like
And across the photograph's back, in Rose's handwriting, were five words:
LUCA KNOWS WHERE THEY WENT.
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