Chapter 8 - THE DEAD WOMAN
Adrian reached the motel room thirty seconds later.
Too late.
Vanessa lay on the floor.
A bullet had entered her chest.
Emily pressed both hands against the wound.
“Stay with me!”
Vanessa coughed blood.
Adrian rolled beside her.
“What did you mean?”
Vanessa’s eyes struggled to focus.
“Your mother.”
“My mother died twenty-two years ago.”
Vanessa shook her head weakly.
“No.”
“Helena lied.”
Adrian’s world tilted.
“Where is she?”
Vanessa whispered something.
Adrian leaned closer.
“Say it again.”
“St. Catherine’s.”
Her eyes closed.
“Vanessa!”
Nothing.
Emily checked for a pulse.
She looked at Adrian.
“She’s gone.”
Adrian stared at the woman who had betrayed him.
For months he had imagined marrying her.
For one day he had hated her.
Now she was dead.
And somehow he felt almost nothing.
Only one sentence remained.
Your mother is alive.
St. Catherine’s turned out to be a private long-term care facility in Connecticut.
It had no website.
No public listings.
Marcus found it through old corporate filings.
The company owning the property traced back to a trust controlled by Helena.
Adrian said nothing during the drive.
Emily sat beside him.
“You okay?”
“No.”
At least he was honest.
“My mother died when I was fourteen.”
“That’s what I was told.”
“What happened?”
“Car crash.”
“My father said she died before they reached the hospital.”
Emily watched his face.
“You never saw her?”
“No.”
“Funeral?”
“Closed casket.”
Adrian looked out the window.
“I spent twenty-two years visiting an empty grave.”
St. Catherine’s sat behind iron gates.
Marcus had already secured a court order through a federal contact.
The director fought them anyway.
“You cannot enter private rooms.”
Adrian rolled past him.
“Try stopping me.”
Room 307.
Marcus opened the door.
Adrian stopped.
An older woman sat near the window.
Thin.
White hair.
A blanket over her knees.
She turned slowly.
Adrian couldn’t breathe.
Her eyes.
His eyes.
The same dark gray.
Her mouth opened.
“Adriano?”
Nobody had called him that since childhood.
Adrian’s hands began shaking.
“Mom?”
The woman started crying.
“Oh, my baby.”
Adrian couldn’t move.
Emily stepped away.
The reunion belonged to them.
Adrian rolled forward.
His mother touched his face.
Then she saw the wheelchair.
Her expression collapsed.
“What did they do to you?”
He laughed through tears.
“That’s a long story.”
She hugged him.
Adrian buried his face against her shoulder.
For the first time since he was fourteen, he cried like a son instead of a man everyone feared.
Later, her story came out.
Elena Moretti had tried to leave Adrian’s father.
She had discovered evidence connecting the family to murders and political corruption.
Helena had helped Adrian’s father fake her death.
They declared Elena mentally unstable and hid her in private facilities for decades.
“Why didn’t you come for me?”
Adrian asked.
Elena looked broken.
“I tried.”
“They moved me every time.”
“They told me you hated me.”
“They showed me letters.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“What letters?”
“Letters you supposedly wrote.”
“I never wrote them.”
“I know that now.”
Elena squeezed his hand.
“Helena kept something from your father.”
“The ledger?”
Elena nodded.
“I stole it.”
“Before they locked me away.”
“Where is it?”
She looked toward Emily.
Then back at Adrian.
“I hid it somewhere Helena could never enter without being seen.”
“Where?”
Elena smiled faintly.
“Your father’s church.”
Adrian frowned.
“It burned down.”
“No.”
“The church burned.”
“The crypt didn’t.”
Marcus’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Adrian asked.
Marcus lowered the phone.
“Victor woke up.”
“And?”
“He escaped the hospital.”
Adrian stared.
Marcus continued.
“Two guards are dead.”
“And Helena?”
“Gone.”
May you like
Elena’s face drained of color.
“They know about the crypt.”
