Chapter 7 - THE BOY UPSTAIRS
Hannah ran.
Dominic caught her before she reached the stairs.
“My brother is up there!”
“And whoever brought him wants you to run blindly.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
For seven months she had been careful around Dominic Moretti.
That caution was gone.
“If that were Julian, would you wait?”
Dominic released her.
“No.”
They went together.
Anthony took the front stairs.
Julian and Gabriel used the service corridor.
Madeline stayed with Eleanor and the guests.
For once, she did not argue.
The crying came from the second floor.
Soft.
Trying to be quiet.
Hannah recognized it.
“Ethan?”
Silence.
Then:
“Hannah?”
She nearly collapsed.
“Baby, I’m here.”
Dominic glanced at her.
The boy was thirteen, but fear changed language.
“Don’t come in!” Ethan shouted.
Hannah stopped.
“Why?”
“There’s a man.”
Dominic drew his pistol.
“Ethan,” he called calmly. “My name is Dominic. Is the man holding a gun?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“Is it pointed at you?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
Another pause.
“In the room.”
A man’s voice followed.
“Put the gun down, Moretti.”
Dominic recognized Peter Sloan.
One of Anthony’s senior security men.
A man who had eaten Christmas dinner in this house.
Dominic placed the pistol on the carpet.
Hannah stared.
“Stay behind me.”
Peter opened the bedroom door.
He was in his late forties.
Gray beginning at his temples.
His gun hung loosely at his side.
Ethan stood near the window wearing a school hoodie, terrified but unharmed.
Hannah moved.
Peter lifted the weapon.
Dominic blocked her.
“Don’t.”
Peter looked at Ethan.
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt him.”
Hannah’s voice shook.
“You dragged him from Syracuse.”
“No.”
Ethan spoke.
“He didn’t.”
Everyone looked at him.
Peter closed his eyes.
Ethan continued.
“A lady picked me up.”
Hannah frowned.
“What lady?”
“She said Mom got sick.”
Their mother.
Hannah went white.
“She showed me your picture and knew our address.”
“Where is she?”
“She left me at the train station with him.”
Peter said, “I intercepted them at Grand Central.”
Dominic stared.
“Them?”
“The people Gabriel brought.”
Gabriel appeared at the end of the hallway.
Peter raised his gun.
Julian immediately stepped between them.
“Don’t.”
Gabriel stopped.
Peter’s face twisted.
“You.”
Gabriel stared.
“Peter.”
“You remember me.”
“I remember a twelve-year-old boy hiding behind oil drums.”
Julian looked between them.
“You were at the warehouse.”
Peter nodded.
“My father was the accountant Vincent killed.”
Anthony arrived behind them.
His face went blank.
“Frank Russo?”
Peter shook his head.
“No.”
Everyone froze.
Peter looked at Anthony.
“Frank wasn’t the man who died that night.”
Anthony stared.
Eleanor had been wrong.
Or lied to.
Again.
Peter lowered his weapon slightly.
“My father’s name was Daniel Sloan. He was a federal auditor. Vincent shot him.”
Dominic frowned.
“Then what happened to Frank Russo?”
Peter looked toward Anthony’s watch.
“Frank helped Vincent clean the scene.”
Anthony recoiled.
“No.”
“He regretted it. Years later.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Ask Gabriel.”
Anthony turned.
Gabriel said nothing.
That was enough.
Anthony’s face changed.
All his life, he had believed his father had been forced into silence.
Now he learned Frank Russo had chosen the Morettis first.
Maybe regret came later.
But choice came first.
Peter continued.
“Frank found me after the shooting. I was hiding near Elias.”
Julian touched the scar beneath his shirt.
Peter looked at him.
“You kept saying your shoulder hurt.”
Something flickered in Julian’s eyes.
“I remember you.”
Peter swallowed.
“I told you not to cry.”
Julian stared.
“You gave me a toy car.”
Peter’s eyes filled.
“A blue one.”
Julian took a step forward.
“You were real.”
“Yes.”
For three decades, both men had carried pieces of the same night.
Dominic looked at Ethan.
“Why bring Hannah’s brother here?”
Peter’s expression hardened.
“I didn’t. I’ve been trying to get him out.”
“Who sent the threat?”
“I did.”
Hannah lunged.
Dominic caught her.
“You threatened a child?”
“I needed you quiet.”
“You sent his picture!”
“And if I had written ‘please stop cleaning Madeline’s drawers,’ would you have listened?”
Hannah stared at him.
Peter looked ashamed.
“I shouldn’t have used the boy. I knew better.”
“Then why?”
“Because I thought you had been recruited.”
“By whom?”
Peter looked toward Gabriel.
“By him.”
Gabriel laughed bitterly.
“You spent thirty years believing I was the enemy.”
“You disappeared.”
“I was hunted.”
“And tonight you came with armed men.”
“To recover evidence.”
Dominic’s patience ended.
“Everybody stop deciding violence is justified because they have a sad story.”
The hallway went silent.
Dominic looked at Peter.
“Who picked Ethan up?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw her?”
“Only from behind.”
“Age?”
“Fifties. Maybe sixties.”
Hannah frowned.
“She knew my mother.”
Peter nodded.
“She knew your family.”
Dominic looked at Hannah.
“Who besides you knows your mother’s routines?”
Hannah thought.
“My employer. Payroll.”
Madeline spoke from behind them.
“And me.”
They turned.
Madeline stood on the stairs.
“I asked Hannah about her family before Dominic hired her.”
Hannah stared.
“Why?”
“Because staff background checks come through my foundation.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“What foundation?”
“The Cross Family Foundation.”
Peter went still.
“No.”
Madeline looked at him.
“What?”
Peter stepped forward.
“That foundation used to belong to Thomas.”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t create it for charity.”
Madeline stiffened.
“He created it after Claire died.”
“Yes.”
Peter looked at Julian.
“To find Elias.”
Madeline stared.
“That’s impossible.”
“Thomas spent twenty years searching through schools, hospitals, employers, public records.”
Hannah’s face changed.
“And the foundation still runs background checks.”
Peter nodded.
“Someone kept using it after Thomas died.”
Madeline’s voice dropped.
“Who?”
Peter looked toward the staircase.
“Your mother.”
Madeline went completely still.
“My mother died nine years ago.”
Peter shook his head.
“No.”
Madeline laughed once.
“That’s not possible.”
Dominic watched her.
This was different from Gabriel’s return.
Madeline looked genuinely destroyed.
Peter continued.
“Your mother was the woman who took Ethan from Syracuse.”
Madeline’s breathing became shallow.
“No.”
Hannah moved to Ethan and wrapped him in both arms.
The boy buried his face against her shoulder.
Dominic looked at Peter.
“Why would Madeline’s mother want Ethan?”
“She didn’t.”
Peter’s eyes shifted to Hannah.
“She wanted Hannah.”
Hannah stared.
“Why me?”
Peter looked at the small silver necklace around her neck.
A plain oval pendant Hannah wore every day.
“I noticed that necklace the first week you worked here.”
Hannah instinctively covered it.
“My mother gave it to me.”
Peter nodded.
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because Claire Cross wore the same one.”
Julian stopped breathing.
Madeline stared at Hannah.
Peter’s voice became almost gentle.
“Hannah, your mother didn’t send you to work in this house because you needed a job.”
Hannah shook her head.
Peter continued.
“She sent you because she knew who Julian really was.”
Ethan lifted his head from Hannah’s shoulder.
And said the one thing none of the adults expected.
“Mom told me not to tell Hannah about the picture.”
Hannah looked down.
“What picture?”
Ethan reached inside his hoodie pocket.
He pulled out a folded child’s drawing.
Two women.
Two boys.
One mansion.
And across the bottom, written in their mother’s handwriting:
May you like
CLAIRE CAME HOME.
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