Chapter 5 - THE ROOM BEHIND THE WALL
The brass key opened a drawer in Dante's study.
He tried three locks before the smallest one turned. Inside was a stack of documents, a passport, and a photograph of Isabella standing beside a woman I didn't recognize. The woman wore a gray coat and held a newspaper over her face.
Dante lifted the photograph.
“That's Rachel Moore. Isabella's attorney.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“She disappeared from the city two days before Isabella.”
He examined the passport. It belonged to Isabella, but the photograph had been replaced with a different one.
“Your wife planned to leave,” I said.
“She planned to disappear.”
“There's a difference.”
He looked at me.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because someone who leaves a family doesn't usually hide a letter telling them to keep a child safe.”
Dante looked down at the note.
He opened a second folder. Inside were printed emails between Isabella and Rachel. Most were short, coded messages about appointments and travel. One line appeared several times.
The blue account is compromised.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“An internal account. Someone had access to our security records.”
“Salvatore?”
“I don't know.”
He called Marco, his head of security, and asked him to bring the access logs from the month before Isabella disappeared.
A few minutes later, Marco arrived. He read the letter.
“Boss, we need to lock down the house.”
“Already done.”
“Salvatore?”
“Where is he?”
“Out of the city,” Marco replied. “His office said he had a meeting in New Jersey.”
“Who authorized that?”
Marco hesitated.
Dante's gaze sharpened. “Call him.”
Marco made the call. It went straight to voicemail.
Dante turned toward the window. “Find him.”
Marco left.
I looked toward the hallway. Sophia was sitting with Mrs. Alvarez, coloring quietly.
“Does she know what happened to her mother?” I asked.
“She knows her mother disappeared. She saw something that night. I don't know how much.”
“Then don't make her repeat it until she's ready.”
Dante nodded. “I won't.”
He turned back to me.
“Why are you helping us?”
The question caught me off guard.
“Because she's five.”
“That's all?”
“Isn't that enough?”
He looked at me for a long moment.
“Most people are afraid to come near my family.”
“I am afraid.”
His expression changed.
“But I'm more afraid of what happens to a child when every adult around her is too frightened to help.”
Dante looked down.
“Your grandmother taught you that song?”
“Yes.”
“Did she teach you anything else?”
“To never force a child to speak when they're scared.”
He nodded slowly. “Maybe I should have learned that.”
That afternoon, Sophia came into the study holding her rabbit. She climbed onto the sofa and placed the animal beside her.
Then she pointed at the photograph of Isabella.
“Mommy,” she whispered.
Dante stood so quickly his chair moved backward.
“Yes?”
Sophia touched the photograph, then pointed to the woman beside Isabella.
“Rachel,” I said.
Sophia nodded.
Dante crouched. “Do you remember Rachel?”
Another nod.
“Did she come to the house?”
Sophia looked toward the door.
Then she whispered, “Bad man.”
Dante's face went pale.
“Which man, sweetheart?”
Sophia picked up the black crayon from the table. She drew a tall figure, then wrote the same name.
SAL.
Dante rose slowly.
This time, he didn't look confused.
He looked furious.
But he kept his voice gentle.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Sophia leaned against him.
May you like
And for the first time, she let him hold her.
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