Chapter 8 - THE THIRD GIRL
By the time Vincent reached the mansion, Elena was sitting on the foyer floor.
Her hands were shaking.
A broken vase lay beside her.
Grace had arrived only twenty minutes earlier with Elena’s daughter, Julia.
They had come because Elena believed the estate was safer than their Boston home.
They were wrong.
Julia had been struck unconscious near the guest entrance.
Grace was gone.
Vincent crouched beside Elena.
“Who knew she was coming?”
“Nobody.”
“Someone did.”
Elena stared at him.
“Why would anyone take Grace?”
Vincent hated what he had to say.
“Because she’s Maria’s daughter.”
Elena’s face emptied.
Then she started crying.
Not surprise.
Guilt.
Vincent saw it.
“You knew.”
Elena covered her face.
“Oh, Vincent.”
“You knew.”
“Sophia made me swear.”
Hannah arrived with Emily and Richard moments later.
Emily remained under Marco’s guard.
Elena looked at the girl and began sobbing harder.
“All three.”
Vincent stood.
“Start talking.”
Elena did.
Nine years earlier, Sophia had appeared at her home shortly before dawn carrying a newborn girl.
Elena’s own daughter Julia had just given birth days earlier to a child who died shortly after delivery.
Julia was devastated.
Sophia offered an impossible arrangement.
A baby needed a home.
No questions.
No records connected to the Romano family.
Julia, shattered and desperate to mother the child she had prepared her life to receive, agreed.
“She knew Grace wasn’t hers biologically?” Vincent asked.
“Yes.”
“But not whose?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Sophia said your life depended on it.”
“My daughter grew up calling me Cousin Vincent.”
Elena cried.
“I’m sorry.”
Vincent turned away.
Across the room, Hannah watched him carefully.
His entire body seemed controlled by force.
She approached.
“You found her.”
“She was here the whole time.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have.”
“Based on what?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Everything was happening inside my family and I saw none of it.”
“You were lied to by everyone you trusted.”
“So were you.”
“Yes.”
Hannah held his gaze.
“And I’m not going to spend the rest of my life blaming myself for believing a hospital when they told me my baby died.”
Vincent absorbed that.
Her words did not absolve him.
But they gave him somewhere to stand.
Marco entered carrying Grace’s backpack.
“We found this outside.”
Inside was a phone.
Not Grace’s.
A burner.
It rang.
Vincent answered.
Dominic.
“You have something that belongs to me,” Vincent said.
Dominic chuckled.
“You mean the girl?”
“My daughter.”
“Maria’s daughter.”
“Mine.”
“Interesting that blood suddenly matters to you.”
“It doesn’t.”
Vincent looked at Lily across the foyer.
She had come downstairs despite instructions.
“It matters to you. That’s your weakness.”
Dominic’s voice hardened.
“You took Lily from me.”
Vincent froze.
Lily heard.
Her face changed.
Dominic continued.
“She was supposed to be mine.”
Evelyn stepped forward.
She heard the voice.
“You never wanted her.”
Dominic went silent.
Evelyn took the phone.
“You wanted a weapon.”
“I wanted my daughter.”
“You threatened me while I was pregnant.”
“I protected you.”
“You sold other women’s babies.”
Dominic’s tone sharpened.
“Give Vincent the phone.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
“You don’t get to use my name like you still know me.”
For the first time, Lily seemed to understand.
She looked at Evelyn.
Then Vincent.
“Is he my real dad?”
No one answered quickly enough.
The hurt appeared immediately.
Vincent lowered the phone.
“Lily.”
“Is he?”
Vincent crouched.
“Yes.”
Lily’s eyes filled.
“So you’re not?”
The question nearly destroyed him.
He took her hands.
“I’m your father.”
“But—”
“I’m your father.”
His voice broke.
“Nothing anybody tells us tonight changes that.”
Lily looked at Evelyn.
“Are you my mom?”
Evelyn cried.
“Yes.”
Lily pulled her hands away and ran upstairs.
Evelyn started after her.
Vincent stopped her gently.
“Give her a minute.”
“She hates me.”
“She doesn’t know you.”
“That’s worse.”
“No.”
Vincent looked toward the stairs.
“It’s honest.”
The burner phone remained connected.
Dominic laughed quietly.
“What a beautiful family reunion.”
Vincent lifted the phone.
“Where’s Grace?”
“Bring me the drive.”
“The hospital ledger?”
“And Sophia’s tape.”
“In exchange for Grace.”
“Yes.”
“How do I know she’s alive?”
A girl’s frightened voice came through.
“Mom?”
Julia cried out.
“Grace!”
Dominic returned.
“Midnight. Pier 17 warehouse.”
“Fine.”
Hannah grabbed Vincent’s arm when the call ended.
“You’re not giving him the evidence.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then he destroys it.”
“Copies exist.”
Marco smiled faintly.
Hannah understood.
They spent the next three hours preparing.
Antonio wanted to go.
Vincent refused.
“This began because I failed,” Antonio said.
“And I’m not letting you turn dying into redemption.”
Antonio flinched.
“You don’t get to make me forgive you by getting yourself killed.”
It was the first thing Vincent had said that sounded like a son speaking to a father.
Antonio nodded.
At eleven forty-five, Vincent arrived at Pier 17.
Alone, according to Dominic.
Marco’s team occupied rooftops.
Police were not involved.
Not yet.
Vincent carried the original cassette and a duplicate flash drive.
Inside the warehouse, Grace sat tied to a chair.
Unharmed.
Dominic stood behind her.
Four armed men surrounded them.
“Drive.”
Vincent held it up.
“Grace first.”
Dominic smiled.
“Still negotiating.”
“Always.”
Dominic pushed Grace forward.
She ran toward Vincent.
Halfway across the warehouse, a gunshot erupted.
Not from Dominic’s men.
From the catwalk.
One of Dominic’s guards dropped.
Chaos exploded.
Vincent pulled Grace behind a crate.
Marco’s team fired from outside.
Dominic shouted something and ran toward the rear exit.
A second armed group entered.
Vincent realized instantly.
Not his.
Not Dominic’s.
A third side.
The same warning Dominic had given him.
Men wearing tactical masks surrounded the warehouse.
One yelled:
“Take the girls alive!”
Girls.
Plural.
Vincent looked at Grace.
They were not here only for her.
They wanted Lily and Emily too.
Dominic dove behind a forklift.
Even he looked surprised.
Vincent shouted across the gunfire.
“Who are they?”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“You finally met the buyers.”
“What buyers?”
“The people who paid Hale!”
Vincent’s stomach turned.
The adoption network had never belonged solely to Dominic.
He had profited from it.
But someone larger had funded it.
One masked man was captured by Marco.
The others fled.
Dominic escaped in the confusion.
Grace survived.
Back at the mansion, Marco removed the captive’s mask.
Nobody recognized him.
But inside his pocket was an access badge.
New York Children’s Legacy Foundation.
A prestigious charity.
Hannah recognized the name.
“They paid for Noah’s speech therapy grant last year.”
Vincent stared at her.
“What?”
“I applied through the clinic.”
Marco searched the foundation’s board.
One name appeared.
Margaret Whitaker.
Caroline’s mother.
Chairwoman.
Caroline turned white.
“My mother?”
Vincent kept scrolling.
A second board member appeared.
Victor Hale.
Then a third.
Dr. Rebecca Shaw.
Everyone stared at Rebecca.
She had been resting upstairs.
Vincent slowly turned toward the staircase.
Rebecca stood there.
Fully dressed.
A suitcase beside her.
Hannah whispered, “Rebecca?”
May you like
Rebecca’s expression changed.
Then she ran.
