Chapter 11 - The Grave That Held the First Secret

# Chapter 11 - The Grave That Held the First Secret

The grave beneath Isabella Venturi's white marble angel contained the remains of a child who had died forty-two years ago.

But according to Anthony Vale, that child wasn't Isabella's son.

And whatever had been buried alongside the infant was the reason Vittorio Moretti had allowed his own grandchildren to be taken from their mother.

Dominic stood motionless in the cemetery garden, his phone still pressed against his ear.

The call had ended.

Across from him, Isabella stared at the little grave she had visited for more than four decades.

Richard Moretti stood near the gate, surrounded by Marco's security personnel. Adriano watched him carefully, his expression difficult to read.

Nobody spoke.

Then Isabella whispered, "Anthony said the child isn't mine."

Dominic lowered his phone.

"That's what he believes."

Her eyes filled.

"Then whose baby have I been mourning?"

He couldn't answer.

Isabella looked toward the marble angel.

"For forty-two years, I've brought him flowers."

Her voice trembled.

"I told him about my birthdays. About the winters. About the years I thought I couldn't survive."

She turned toward Dominic.

"If that isn't my son, then somebody else lost a baby too."

The words struck him harder than anything Anthony had said.

Another mother.

Another family.

Another child whose identity had been erased.

Dominic looked toward Richard.

"Who is buried here?"

His uncle lowered his eyes.

"Dominic—"

"Answer me."

Richard hesitated.

"I don't know."

Adriano laughed bitterly.

"You signed the transfer documents."

"I signed what Charles put in front of me."

"And that absolves you?"

Richard's expression hardened.

"I never said it did."

Dominic stepped forward.

"You took Isabella's baby. You helped conceal Gabriel. You changed medical records. And now you're telling me you don't know who's buried in this garden?"

Richard looked toward the grave.

For the first time, Dominic saw something he hadn't expected.

Not anger.

Not calculation.

Fear.

"That grave," Richard said quietly, "was never supposed to be examined."

Detective Sarah Mitchell arrived at Isabella's property shortly after midnight.

Dominic had contacted her immediately after speaking with Anthony.

The detective listened as he explained the telephone call, the allegations concerning the grave, and the inscription Anthony had apparently left beneath the marble angel.

When he finished, she examined the small cemetery plot.

"No one touches the grave until proper legal authorization is obtained," she said.

Dominic nodded.

"Understood."

Mitchell looked toward Isabella.

"Mrs. Venturi, are you willing to cooperate with an investigation into the child's identity?"

Isabella stood beside the angel.

"Yes."

"That may involve examination of the remains. We would explain the process and seek the appropriate authorization before proceeding."

Isabella closed her eyes.

For several seconds, she remained silent.

Then she nodded.

"I want to know whose child is here."

Mitchell's expression softened.

"We'll proceed carefully."

Dominic looked at the detective.

"What about the original registry Anthony mentioned?"

"We'll investigate whether any evidence was placed at the site. Your attorney has already informed us about the recent repairs to the memorial."

Richard shifted beside the gate.

Mitchell noticed.

"Mr. Moretti, I'd also like to speak with you."

Richard's face tightened.

"About what?"

"The neonatal transfers. Bellwether. And your role in the arrangements involving Isabella Venturi's son."

Richard glanced at Dominic.

"You've turned this into a police investigation."

Dominic met his eyes.

"Children were taken from their families. What did you expect?"

Richard gave a tired laugh.

"You still don't understand what Charles built."

"Then explain it."

His uncle looked toward the marble angel.

"Project Legacy wasn't created to steal children."

Adriano stepped closer.

"Then what was it created for?"

Richard hesitated.

"To create heirs."

The silence that followed seemed to swallow even the sound of the ocean.

At 12:48 a.m., the four men gathered inside Isabella's sitting room while she remained near the fireplace with a female officer.

Detective Mitchell had asked Richard to provide a voluntary account of what he knew.

Dominic stood by the window.

Adrian Cole sat opposite Richard, recording notes with permission.

"What do you mean, create heirs?" Dominic demanded.

Richard rubbed his forehead.

"Your grandfather's estate was divided among several trusts. Some assets could pass only to descendants satisfying particular conditions."

"Biological descendants?"

"Yes."

"Then why change children's identities?"

Richard looked at him.

"Because inheritance disputes aren't always decided by biology alone. Legal parentage, guardianship records, beneficiary designations, and the timing of recognition can affect who controls assets."

Adrian frowned.

"You're describing manipulation of legal records."

"I'm describing what Charles proposed."

"Which you participated in," Dominic replied.

Richard accepted the accusation with silence.

Then he continued.

"Charles established Bellwether as a charitable operation. It funded genuine medical programs. But hidden inside its administration was a network capable of creating false histories for children."

"How many?" Mitchell asked.

Richard hesitated.

"I don't know."

Dominic's jaw tightened.

"How many, Richard?"

"More than the five children Elena delivered."

Isabella made a small sound near the fireplace.

Richard continued.

"The program existed before her pregnancy. Long before."

"Since 1984?" Adrian asked.

Richard looked toward the window.

"Earlier."

Dominic became still.

"Earlier than Anthony?"

Richard nodded.

"Your grandfather began exploring succession arrangements in the late 1970s. Some people inside the family believed an unrecognized descendant could destabilize the entire empire."

"Who were those people?"

Richard looked at Dominic.

"Vittorio. Charles's father. A handful of attorneys."

"And you?"

"I became involved later."

Dominic stared.

He had grown up hearing stories about his grandfather building the Moretti fortune through sacrifice and discipline.

Now it seemed the family's obsession with bloodlines had transformed children into instruments of financial control.

"What does that have to do with the grave?" Dominic asked.

Richard swallowed.

"The first attempt to alter a child's identity ended in a death."

Isabella slowly looked up.

"What child?"

Richard shook his head.

"I never knew the original name."

Dominic felt cold.

"Was that the baby buried here?"

Richard stared at the floor.

"I believe so."

At Seabrook, Elena couldn't sleep.

Gabriel was still missing.

Dominic was in Maine pursuing another generations-old secret.

And six children were sleeping beneath her roof, five of whom now seemed connected to Bellwether's falsified records.

She sat in the living room, examining the photograph Claire Bennett had brought.

Gabriel.

Daniel.

And the boy known as Anthony, whose name appeared in yet another disputed identity file.

Elena had begun to hate photographs.

Every one contained another child she couldn't protect.

Every one promised an answer while creating another question.

A small voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Mom?"

She turned.

Matteo stood in the doorway wearing dinosaur pajamas.

His eyes were red from sleep.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing awake?"

He walked toward her.

"I had a bad dream."

Elena opened her arms.

He climbed into her lap.

"Was it about the woman?"

Matteo nodded.

"She said I had to go away."

Elena held him tightly.

"You're here with me now."

He rested his head against her chest.

For several minutes, they sat quietly.

Then Matteo whispered, "Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Why does Daniel look like me?"

Elena felt her heart tighten.

She had expected the question eventually.

But she hadn't expected it tonight.

"Sometimes children look alike," she answered.

"Even when they're not brothers?"

"Yes."

Matteo considered this.

Then asked, "What if he is my brother?"

Elena stroked his hair.

"That's something the grown-ups are trying to understand."

He looked up.

"Would that be bad?"

"No, sweetheart."

"Then why is everyone sad?"

Elena closed her eyes.

Because the truth might break the world she had built.

Because she might discover that one of the children she had carried home wasn't biologically hers.

Because somewhere Gabriel was waiting, and every hour without him felt like another betrayal.

But Matteo was six.

He deserved an answer that didn't make him responsible for adult cruelty.

"Because some people made choices that hurt families," she said.

Matteo frowned.

"Like the bad lady?"

"Yes."

He thought for a moment.

Then placed his small hand against her cheek.

"Don't be sad, Mommy. Dad's going to find Gabriel."

Elena smiled through her tears.

"I hope so."

Matteo settled against her again.

And whispered something unexpected.

"Gabriel has a blue rabbit."

Elena went still.

"What did you say?"

"A blue rabbit."

Her pulse quickened.

"How do you know that?"

Matteo looked confused.

"I saw it."

"Where?"

He frowned, struggling to remember.

"In the white room."

Elena felt cold.

"What white room?"

The boy closed his eyes.

"There were pictures on the wall."

"When did you see it?"

"I don't know."

"Was Mommy there?"

Matteo shook his head.

"Just the doctor."

Elena stopped breathing.

At 1:26 a.m., Dominic received Elena's call.

He stepped into Isabella's hallway.

"Elena?"

"Matteo remembers Gabriel's rabbit."

Dominic froze.

"What?"

"The same blue rabbit you found in Unit Five."

His expression changed.

"How does he know about it?"

"He says he saw it in a white room with pictures on the wall."

Dominic closed his eyes.

Daniel had described a white room.

Gabriel had reportedly been questioned there.

And now Matteo appeared to remember something similar.

"Did he say when?"

"No."

"Anything about the doctor?"

"He couldn't describe the person."

Dominic leaned against the wall.

"Elena, don't push him to remember."

"I know."

"We'll have a specialist speak with him appropriately."

She was quiet for a moment.

Then whispered, "Dominic, what if someone took Matteo to Bellwether without me knowing?"

He looked toward the sitting room.

Richard was still speaking with Mitchell.

"It's possible."

"How?"

"I don't know yet."

Elena's voice broke.

"I was with him almost every day."

"I know."

"I never left him with strangers."

"I believe you."

She began crying quietly.

Dominic felt helpless.

Six years of lies had invaded even the safest memories of their children's lives.

"I'll come home as soon as I can," he said.

"Find Gabriel first."

Dominic closed his eyes.

"Elena—"

"Please."

He swallowed.

"That's what I'm trying to do."

At 2:04 a.m., Adriano found Dominic outside the house.

The wind coming off the Atlantic had grown colder.

For several seconds, the two men stood without speaking.

Then Adriano said, "Richard isn't telling you everything."

Dominic gave a humorless smile.

"That would be a remarkable change."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Adriano looked toward the cemetery.

"Anthony didn't hide the registry because he wanted to expose your family."

"Then why?"

"He wanted to protect the children."

"From Charles?"

"From whoever inherited Project Legacy."

Dominic frowned.

"What does that mean?"

Adriano hesitated.

"Charles financed it. Richard managed parts of it. Vittorio helped establish the original succession agreement."

"And?"

"Someone else took control after Vittorio died."

Dominic stared.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Then how do you know someone did?"

"Because the orders changed."

"What orders?"

"Before Vittorio died, the children were being kept separated to preserve the legal identities. Afterward, someone began ordering additional tests."

Dominic felt cold.

"Genetic tests?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To determine which child could satisfy the trust's requirements."

Dominic frowned.

"Then why not use authentic parentage records?"

"Because the original documents had been falsified. The people controlling the trust no longer knew which identities corresponded to which children."

Dominic stared.

The idea was horrifying.

The architects of the deception had created so many conflicting records that they had lost track of the truth.

And children were being tested, transferred, and threatened to repair an inheritance scheme adults had corrupted.

"Did Anthony discover the true identities?"

Adriano shook his head.

"He discovered where the original evidence was hidden."

"The grave."

"Yes."

"Then why didn't he take it?"

"Because he wanted investigators to find it."

Dominic looked at him.

"Why?"

"Because if he removed it himself, Richard could claim he'd fabricated everything."

Dominic considered that.

Anthony was protecting the chain of evidence.

He wasn't merely trying to reveal a secret.

He was trying to make it impossible to bury again.

At 6:32 a.m., Dominic received another call from Detective Mitchell.

The authorized examination of the memorial had begun.

Investigators had discovered a concealed compartment within the recently repaired marble base.

The compartment had been sealed against moisture.

Inside was a small metal cylinder.

Dominic arrived in the garden as technicians documented its removal.

Isabella stood several feet away.

Her hands were clasped together.

"Is that it?" she whispered.

Mitchell nodded.

"We'll examine it in a controlled environment."

Dominic stared at the cylinder.

Anthony had returned to his mother's house.

He had stood beside the grave of a child she had mourned for forty-two years.

And instead of knocking on her door, he had hidden evidence beneath the angel.

Why?

Because he was being followed?

Because he feared endangering her?

Or because he knew she wouldn't survive losing him again?

Dominic looked toward the grave.

The answer might be inside that cylinder.

But the boy buried beneath it still deserved a name.

At 8:17 a.m., Adrian received confirmation from the forensic team.

The cylinder contained a miniature data-storage device and several folded documents.

The material had been preserved.

One document was a registry.

Not merely a list of names.

A detailed record of children transferred between institutions under altered identities.

Dominic stared at the preliminary report.

"How many entries?"

Adrian looked at him.

"Thirty-seven."

Dominic went still.

"Thirty-seven children?"

"Thirty-seven identity records. Investigators are establishing how many distinct children they represent."

The distinction mattered.

If multiple records referred to the same child, the number of affected individuals could be smaller.

Or larger.

But even the possibility of dozens of children subjected to this system was staggering.

Adrian continued.

"The oldest entry dates to 1981."

Dominic felt cold.

Three years before Anthony's birth.

"The newest?"

Adrian hesitated.

"Three weeks ago."

Dominic closed his eyes.

Project Legacy hadn't ended.

It was still operating.

"Is Gabriel listed?"

"Yes."

"Matteo?"

"Yes."

"Daniel?"

"Under several names."

Dominic leaned forward.

"And the original Baby D?"

Adrian looked troubled.

"There are two records linked to that designation."

"Two?"

"Yes."

Dominic stared.

The deception Anthony described was real, at least in the registry.

One infant's identity had been divided across multiple records.

But the registry alone couldn't establish which child was biologically related to which parents.

"What about the genetic evidence?" Dominic asked.

"The device contains laboratory files. They're being examined for authenticity and provenance."

"Can they identify the children?"

"Possibly, if the specimens and identities were properly documented. Investigators are treating the historic results as evidence to be tested, not as conclusive proof."

Dominic nodded.

Then Adrian's expression changed.

"There's something else."

"What?"

"Anthony included a personal letter."

"To whom?"

"Isabella."

Dominic looked toward the window.

His father's former lover sat alone in the garden.

For forty-two years, she had prayed for news of her missing child.

Now the truth was finally approaching her.

And Dominic feared it might be more painful than the lie.

At 9:06 a.m., Isabella read Anthony's letter.

Dominic remained nearby, but he did not interrupt.

The handwriting was careful.

Almost formal.

Mother,

I have imagined meeting you so many times that I no longer know which version of the conversation is real.

Sometimes I imagine you recognizing me immediately.

Sometimes I imagine you asking why I stayed away.

The truth is that I was afraid.

For most of my life, I was told you abandoned me. When I learned that wasn't true, I wanted to find you.

But by then I had become involved in the same system that took me from you.

I helped move records. I signed documents. I believed people who told me the children were being protected.

I was wrong.

Isabella's tears fell onto the page.

She continued.

I cannot undo what happened to me. But I can try to prevent it from happening to another child.

If I survive, I will come home.

If I don't, please know that I never stopped wanting to know you.

Your son,

Anthony.

Isabella lowered the letter.

For several seconds, she stared at the ocean.

Then she whispered, "He called me Mother."

Dominic felt his throat tighten.

She pressed the paper against her chest.

"My boy."

And for the first time since Dominic arrived in Maine, Isabella smiled.

It was a small, broken smile.

But it contained forty-two years of love.

At 10:42 a.m., the investigation took a darker turn.

Adrian received a call from Mitchell.

"Dominic needs to hear this," she said.

He placed the phone on speaker.

Mitchell continued.

"The registry contains a notation connected to the child buried in Isabella's garden."

Dominic became still.

"What notation?"

"An infant identification number, a recorded death date, and an internal project classification."

"Whose child?"

"We haven't established that."

"What's the classification?"

Mitchell hesitated.

"Subject Zero."

Silence.

Dominic frowned.

"Subject Zero?"

"The first recorded infant death associated with the identity reassignment project."

Adrian leaned forward.

"What does the registry say happened?"

"A transfer was attempted. The infant developed a medical emergency. The record indicates the child died before the reassignment process was completed."

Dominic's expression hardened.

"Was the death reported?"

"There is a death certificate. But the mother's identity has been removed from the copies currently available."

Isabella covered her mouth.

Dominic looked toward her.

Someone had buried a child in her garden.

Someone had allowed her to believe it was Anthony.

And somewhere, another family might have been denied the truth about that child's death.

"Can the child be identified?" Dominic asked.

"We're seeking authorization for forensic examination and comparison with available records."

Dominic nodded.

Then Mitchell added, "There's an unusual note in the registry."

"What?"

"It appears to have been written by someone named Charles Barrett."

Dominic went still.

"Read it."

Mitchell's voice lowered.

Subject Zero demonstrates that the reassignment protocol carries unacceptable risk. Further transfers require revised procedures.

Dominic stared.

An infant had died.

And instead of ending the operation, someone had revised the procedure.

He slowly closed his eyes.

For the first time, the scale of Project Legacy became clear.

It wasn't only a family conspiracy.

It was an organized system that treated vulnerable children as records to be assigned, moved, and rewritten.

And it had continued across generations.

At 11:31 a.m., Dominic received a message from Anthony.

Did you find the registry?

He answered immediately.

Yes.

A second message appeared.

Then you know about Subject Zero.

Dominic stared.

Who was the child?

For almost a minute, nothing happened.

Then Anthony replied.

I don't know his original name.

Dominic frowned.

Do you know who his mother was?

Another pause.

No. Charles erased her identity from the records.

Dominic looked toward Isabella.

Why bury him in Isabella's garden?

The response came slowly.

Because Richard needed her to believe Anthony was dead.

Dominic's expression hardened.

Where are you and Gabriel?

No answer.

He typed again.

Gabriel needs his mother. We can protect him.

A minute passed.

Then the phone vibrated.

I want to believe that.

Dominic stared.

Then come to Seabrook.

Anthony replied.

Not until you find the person who controls Bellwether now.

Dominic's pulse quickened.

Who is it?

The answer came almost immediately.

The name is in the registry.

Dominic called Adrian.

"Find the current controlling authority for Project Legacy. Check every recent authorization."

Adrian agreed.

But before Dominic could end the call, Anthony sent one final message.

Don't trust the beneficiary list. Find the signatures.

At 12:48 p.m., Adrian opened the registry's administrative section.

It contained records of transfers, payments, medical authorizations, and internal approvals.

Many signatures belonged to Richard Moretti.

Others belonged to Charles Barrett.

Several older entries carried Vittorio's name.

But recent documents were different.

Someone else had begun authorizing transfers after Vittorio's death.

The first initials were difficult to read.

Adrian enlarged the scan.

E.H.

Dominic stared.

"Evelyn Hart?"

"Possibly," Adrian answered. "But initials alone aren't enough."

He opened another file.

A transfer authorization dated September 17.

The day Anthony was photographed at Bellwether.

The document identified three children for relocation.

Gabriel.

The boy registered under Anthony Vale.

And Jonathan.

Daniel.

At the bottom was an electronic signature.

Adrian clicked the embedded certificate.

A name appeared.

DR. EVELYN M. HART

Dominic went completely still.

Evelyn had claimed to be investigating Bellwether.

She had brought evidence.

She had warned Elena about the children's altered identities.

Yet her signature appeared on a recent transfer authorization.

Dominic stared at the screen.

"Authenticate it."

Adrian nodded.

"We'll verify whether the credentials were genuinely hers or used without her authorization."

Then he opened the associated message.

It contained a short instruction.

All three subjects are to remain under restricted access until beneficiary verification is complete.

Dominic felt cold.

Someone had been using Evelyn's credentials to control the children's movements.

Whether Evelyn herself was responsible remained uncertain.

But she had been at Bellwether three weeks earlier.

Daniel feared her.

And she had withheld details about the transfer.

Dominic called Elena.

She answered immediately.

"Dominic?"

"Where's Evelyn?"

"In the guest sitting room. Security is with her."

"Keep her there."

Elena became still.

"Why?"

"Her name appears on the September transfer authorization."

Silence.

Then Elena whispered, "You think she moved Gabriel?"

"I think she knows more than she's told us."

Elena looked toward the hallway.

"And Daniel?"

"Keep him with Marco."

She nodded.

"I will."

Dominic ended the call.

Then he turned toward Adrian.

"Get Mitchell."

Adrian was already dialing.

At 1:17 p.m., Evelyn Hart sat across from Detective Mitchell on a secure video interview.

She appeared exhausted.

Her hands trembled around a glass of water.

Mitchell placed the transfer authorization before her.

"Dr. Hart, is this your signature?"

Evelyn stared.

Her face lost its color.

"No."

"Are these your professional credentials?"

"Yes."

"Could someone else have used them?"

Evelyn swallowed.

"Charles had access to the hospital's administrative systems."

"Did you authorize the transfer of Gabriel Rossi-Moretti?"

"No."

"Daniel?"

"No."

"The child identified as Anthony Vale?"

Evelyn hesitated.

Mitchell noticed.

"Dr. Hart?"

Evelyn closed her eyes.

"I authorized an assessment, not a transfer."

Dominic leaned forward.

"What assessment?"

Evelyn looked toward him.

"A genetic comparison."

"Of whom?"

"Gabriel. Daniel. The boy registered as Anthony Vale."

"Why?"

She began crying.

"Because I thought it would prove what Charles had done."

"Then why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I was afraid the results would be destroyed."

Dominic felt his anger rise.

"What did they show?"

Evelyn looked down.

"I never received the final report."

Adrian frowned.

"Who did?"

Evelyn hesitated.

Then whispered, "Dr. Whitmore."

Dominic stared.

The pediatric neurologist.

The man Daniel feared.

The man who had allegedly administered medication that left Gabriel difficult to awaken.

"Where is Whitmore?" Dominic demanded.

Evelyn shook her head.

"I don't know."

Mitchell leaned forward.

"Dr. Hart, we need you to explain your role in these events fully. Your withholding of information may have placed children at risk."

Evelyn began sobbing.

"I know."

Then she whispered something that silenced the room.

"I thought I could get Gabriel out before his birthday."

Dominic went still.

"Why his birthday?"

Evelyn looked up.

"Because on October fourteenth, the trust verification becomes final."

"Not if the records are fraudulent."

"Charles doesn't care about the truth."

Dominic's expression hardened.

"Then what does he care about?"

"Control."

At 2:03 p.m., Dominic stood outside Isabella's house, looking toward the sea.

Tomorrow was October 14.

Gabriel's seventh birthday.

The day the trust documents identified as the verification deadline.

The day someone intended to convert falsified medical records into control over a fortune.

And the day a child who had spent six years hidden from his parents might be moved again.

Dominic looked at his phone.

Anthony hadn't answered another message.

He thought about Elena.

About Luca, Leo, Nico, and Matteo.

About Daniel.

About Gabriel.

And about Isabella, who had lost forty-two years with Anthony.

Every generation of his family had inherited money.

But the children had inherited fear.

His phone vibrated.

Marco.

"Boss."

"What is it?"

"We've got a situation."

Dominic straightened.

"Are the children safe?"

"Yes. All five at Seabrook are accounted for."

"Then what?"

"Someone just arrived at the gate."

Dominic felt his pulse quicken.

"Who?"

"A man claiming to be Dr. Samuel Whitmore."

His blood turned cold.

"Don't let him near the children."

"We haven't."

"What does he want?"

"He says he's here to surrender."

Dominic stared.

"Surrender?"

"Yes."

"To whom?"

"He says he'll speak only to you and Detective Mitchell."

Dominic looked toward the house.

"Why?"

Marco hesitated.

"He's carrying medical records."

"What records?"

"Gabriel's."

Dominic's pulse hammered.

"Have authorities take custody of the documents. Don't let him leave without speaking to police."

"Understood."

Then Marco added, "There's something else."

Dominic closed his eyes.

"What?"

"Whitmore says Gabriel is in immediate danger."

Dominic felt cold.

"From whom?"

Marco lowered his voice.

"He says someone arranged for Gabriel to be declared medically unfit before tomorrow's trust verification."

Dominic stared.

"Why?"

"Because if Gabriel can't participate, the trust's contingency provisions allow another child to be designated."

Dominic stopped breathing.

"Which child?"

Marco hesitated.

Then spoke the name.

"Matteo."

Dominic's hand tightened around the phone.

Matteo.

The boy someone had tried to abduct.

The child whose identity had been manipulated.

The son Elena had raised since birth.

"Why Matteo?" Dominic whispered.

Marco answered slowly.

"Whitmore says the original genetic test identified Matteo as the child connected to the beneficiary designation."

Dominic looked toward Isabella's garden.

The grave.

The registry.

The forged records.

And the countless lies.

"Is the test authentic?"

"Whitmore claims it is."

Dominic's expression hardened.

"Claims aren't proof."

"No, boss."

He took a breath.

"Have Mitchell verify everything."

Then Marco said something that made Dominic stop moving.

"Boss, Whitmore also says Anthony Vale wasn't the person who took Gabriel out of Bellwether."

Dominic froze.

"What?"

"He says Anthony helped arrange the escape, but someone else physically removed the boy."

"Who?"

Marco hesitated.

"Whitmore says it was someone Gabriel trusted."

Dominic felt his heartbeat accelerate.

"Who?"

A pause.

Then Marco whispered:

"Elena Rossi."

The world seemed to stop.

Dominic stared at the phone.

"That's impossible."

"I know."

"Elena has been at Seabrook."

"Whitmore says the woman who removed Gabriel used Elena's identity."

Dominic went cold.

"What do you mean, used her identity?"

Marco swallowed.

"He says the woman carried Elena's identification, wore her hospital visitor badge, and was recorded signing Gabriel out."

Dominic's mind raced.

The woman Daniel had described.

Brown hair.

A familiar face.

Someone the children called Mother.

The person who had taught Gabriel Elena's lullaby.

Someone had been impersonating Elena.

And now the same person might be controlling Gabriel's whereabouts.

"Where is the woman?" Dominic demanded.

Marco's voice became tense.

"Whitmore says she disappeared with the boy."

Dominic closed his eyes.

Then his phone vibrated again.

An unknown number.

A photograph appeared.

Gabriel sat beside a woman in a dimly lit room.

He was awake.

He appeared frightened but unharmed.

The woman had brown hair.

A dusty rose blouse.

And a face Dominic recognized immediately.

Elena Rossi.

Or someone who looked extraordinarily like her.

Dominic enlarged the image.

His pulse hammered.

Because the woman wasn't Elena.

He knew her face.

He had seen her before.

Six years earlier.

At the hospital.

Standing beside his father during one of the last arguments before Elena disappeared.

A woman who had introduced herself as a medical administrator.

A woman who had watched Dominic with unsettling interest.

And whose name he had never learned.

Beneath the photograph was a message.

You found the grave. You found the registry. Now come find your son.

Dominic stared.

Another message arrived.

Bring Isabella.

Then a final sentence.

She deserves to meet the daughter Vittorio never told her about.

Dominic stopped breathing.

A daughter.

Isabella had believed she'd given birth to one son.

But someone was now claiming she had another child.

A woman who looked like Elena.

A woman who had apparently stolen Elena's identity.

And a woman who was holding Gabriel.

Dominic slowly looked toward Isabella's house.

Because the Moretti family's most dangerous secret might not be another missing son.

It might be a daughter who had spent her entire life waiting for revenge.