Chapter 2
The scream came from Dominic Romano’s study.
Adrian ran first.
Marcus followed despite the blood soaking his side. I followed both because nobody had remembered to tell me not to, and even if they had, I would not have listened.
Smoke curled into the hallway.
The study door stood open.
Julian Laurent was feeding papers into the fireplace.
Two security men grabbed him.
He fought like a man who had run out of elegant options.
“What are you doing?” Adrian demanded.
Julian twisted around. “Protecting patient confidentiality.”
Marcus laughed once. “With fire?”
The flames caught a folder.
Adrian kicked it away before it burned completely.
A label showed through the blackened corner.
DOMINIC ROMANO — PSYCHIATRIC ASSESSMENT.
Adrian stared.
“My father had pancreatic cancer.”
Julian stopped struggling.
“That does not prevent mental decline.”
Marcus came closer.
“You were evaluating him.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Paranoia.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“About whom?”
Julian looked toward Camille, who had arrived under guard.
She stood in the doorway.
No longer composed.
No longer elegant.
Afraid.
“About everyone,” Julian said.
Camille whispered, “Liar.”
Julian turned.
She continued. “You told me he never came to the clinic.”
The siblings stared at each other.
Something cracked between them.
Adrian noticed.
“So there are two plans.”
Neither answered.
Marcus said, “Camille wanted control through marriage.”
He pointed to Julian.
“And Julian wanted control through incapacity.”
Julian sneered. “You stole nine million dollars from the family trusts.”
Adrian turned toward Marcus.
Marcus closed his eyes.
Of course.
Another secret.
Adrian’s voice went very quiet.
“You did what?”
Marcus rubbed his face.
“I moved it.”
“Nine million dollars.”
“To keep the Laurents from accessing it.”
“Where?”
Marcus did not answer.
I knew before Adrian did.
I wrote on the back of a memorial program.
HELEN MARSH?
Marcus looked at me.
His silence was enough.
My mother’s name.
Adrian stared.
“Who is Helen Marsh?”
I wrote:
MY MOTHER.
Marcus said, “She helped me.”
I stared at him.
My mother had been dead eight years.
At least that was what I believed.
Marcus saw my confusion.
His face changed.
“Ella…”
The room tilted.
I wrote:
WHAT?
Marcus did not answer.
That was worse.
Adrian turned back to Julian.
“Safe.”
Julian frowned.
“What?”
“My father had something you were trying to burn. There is probably something you could not.”
Camille looked toward the large lake photograph above the shelves.
Adrian noticed.
He removed the frame.
Behind it was a keypad.
Marcus almost smiled.
“Of course.”
Adrian tried family birthdays.
Nothing.
Then he looked at me.
“My father approved your hiring personally.”
I had not known that.
Adrian asked, “Your birthday?”
I wrote:
04/17/1994.
He entered 041794.
Green light.
Camille sat down.
The safe opened.
Four envelopes.
A flash drive.
A cassette tape.
A small velvet box.
One envelope said ADRIAN.
One said MARCUS.
One said ELLA MARSH.
The last said HELEN MARSH.
My hands went numb.
Adrian gave me mine.
Inside was a letter from Dominic.
Ella,
If you are reading this, I failed to tell you myself.
Your mother worked for me because she believed the law mattered more than money. She found evidence that my business partners were using Romano companies for bribery and extortion. When she tried to leave, they threatened you.
I helped her disappear once.
Years later, when the danger returned, she disappeared again.
I stared at the words.
Again.
I looked at Marcus.
He closed his eyes.
I kept reading.
You were an infant the first time.
You were an adult the second.
I promised Helen I would never bring you into this.
I broke that promise the day I hired you.
I needed someone inside the house who was not tied to either family.
I am sorry.
If Marcus returns, help my sons find the original will.
Your mother hid it where only you would think to look.
D.R.
My breathing stopped.
I wrote one sentence.
MY MOTHER IS ALIVE?
Marcus whispered, “She was six years ago.”
I stood so quickly the chair fell.
Adrian stepped toward me.
I backed away.
My throat hurt with every breath.
Marcus said, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
I wrote:
YOU DIDN’T.
He looked ashamed.
Good.
He deserved to.
The flash drive changed the night again.
Marcus inserted it into Dominic’s computer.
Folders appeared.
Medical records.
Audio files.
Bank transfers.
A recording was dated three nights before Dominic died.
Adrian clicked it.
His father’s weak voice filled the room.
“If you are hearing this, Julian Laurent has already tried to declare me incompetent.”
Julian shouted, “Turn that off.”
Nobody did.
Dominic continued.
“The original will exists. Marcus has half. Adrian has half.”
Camille covered her mouth.
“And there is one more truth.”
Everyone listened.
“Ella Marsh is not in this house by accident.”
My chest tightened.
“She is Helen’s daughter.”
A cough.
“Helen Marsh is alive.”
My knees nearly failed.
Adrian caught my elbow.
I pulled away reflexively.
Not because of him.
Because I did not want anyone holding me.
Dominic’s voice continued.
“She has been living under protection since 2018.”
I forced air through my damaged throat.
One broken word escaped.
“Mom?”
Pain burned through my neck.
Adrian immediately said, “Don’t force it.”
I stared at the screen.
Eight years.
A funeral.
A coffin.
A grave.
All false.
Julian laughed bitterly.
“Dominic was paranoid.”
Marcus looked at him.
“He was apparently paranoid with documentation.”
The next file was a medication log.
Adrian opened it.
His face changed.
Doses had been altered during Dominic’s final week.
One medication doubled.
Another added.
All approved under Julian’s electronic signature.
Camille whispered, “No.”
Julian turned toward her.
“Do not.”
She stared at the screen.
“You told me you were making him comfortable.”
“He was dying.”
Adrian’s entire body went still.
“What did you say?”
Julian realized too late.
Adrian crossed the room.
Security barely stopped him.
Marcus grabbed his brother’s shoulder.
“Not here.”
Adrian fought him once.
Then saw me watching.
He stopped.
The anger stayed.
But he stopped.
That mattered.
Before anyone could decide what to do next, a black sedan arrived at the front entrance.
Peter Voss stepped out.
Former federal marshal.
Dominic’s private security contractor.
The man Marcus said had helped hide him.
He entered the study and looked at me first.
“You’re Ella.”
I nodded.
“You look like Helen.”
I held up my notepad.
WHERE IS SHE?
Voss’s expression hardened.
“That is why I came.”
Adrian asked, “Where is Helen Marsh?”
“Site C.”
Marcus frowned. “Where is that?”
“Was.”
Everyone froze.
Voss continued.
“She left four days ago.”
I wrote:
LEFT?
“Voluntarily.”
WHERE?
“We don’t know.”
Adrian swore.
Voss handed me an envelope.
My mother’s handwriting.
Ella,
If Dominic is dead, they will come for you.
Do not trust anyone who tells you Marcus is the danger.
Do not trust anyone who tells you Adrian is the danger.
The danger is the person who benefits if the brothers destroy each other.
I looked up.
The last line said:
Camille Laurent is not working for her brother.
Julian Laurent is working for her.
Behind us, Camille whispered:
“That is not true.”
I turned.
She stood near the doorway.
The guard beside her was unconscious.
A pistol shook in her hands.
Adrian stepped in front of me.
“Camille.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You were never supposed to learn any of this tonight.”
He looked at the gun.
“Then start with why you have that.”
Her voice broke.
“Because Julian is going to blame me for your father’s death.”
Julian laughed.
And the Romano memorial became a hostage scene.
That night, another detail mattered.
Dr. Vale examined Marcus before anyone allowed him to continue arguing. The wound in his side needed stitches. Adrian stood in the doorway while the doctor worked. Marcus joked that his brother always looked angry in medical rooms. Adrian answered that Marcus had spent twelve years giving him reasons. The joke died. Then Marcus quietly admitted he had returned once nine years earlier and watched Adrian leave the office from across the street. Adrian said he had been getting divorced that day. Marcus looked stunned. The moment was small, almost absurd, but it showed what absence had cost them. They did not know each other’s losses anymore.
In the days that followed, the same lesson returned.
Dr. Vale examined Marcus before anyone allowed him to continue arguing. The wound in his side needed stitches. Adrian stood in the doorway while the doctor worked. Marcus joked that his brother always looked angry in medical rooms. Adrian answered that Marcus had spent twelve years giving him reasons. The joke died. Then Marcus quietly admitted he had returned once nine years earlier and watched Adrian leave the office from across the street. Adrian said he had been getting divorced that day. Marcus looked stunned. The moment was small, almost absurd, but it showed what absence had cost them. They did not know each other’s losses anymore.
May you like
There was one more conversation I remembered.
Dr. Vale examined Marcus before anyone allowed him to continue arguing. The wound in his side needed stitches. Adrian stood in the doorway while the doctor worked. Marcus joked that his brother always looked angry in medical rooms. Adrian answered that Marcus had spent twelve years giving him reasons. The joke died. Then Marcus quietly admitted he had returned once nine years earlier and watched Adrian leave the office from across the street. Adrian said he had been getting divorced that day. Marcus looked stunned. The moment was small, almost absurd, but it showed what absence had cost them. They did not know each other’s losses anymore.
