Chapter 3 - THE NAME SHE BURIED
Mara locked the door.
Then she checked it twice.
The photograph shook in her hand.
She had not seen that house in eight years.
She could still smell the smoke.
Hear the screaming.
Feel her brother Daniel pulling her through the back door while flames swallowed the kitchen.
“Run, Anna!”
Her real name had been Anna Vale.
Daughter of Michael Vale, accountant to one of Boston’s most violent crime organizations.
Until he stole evidence.
Until powerful men came looking.
Until the family home burned.
Her father died.
Her mother died.
Daniel disappeared.
Anna survived.
Barely.
At eighteen, she changed her name.
At nineteen, she changed cities.
By twenty-six, she had become very good at pretending Anna Vale had died in that fire too.
Now somebody had left proof on her pillow.
A knock hit the door.
Mara nearly screamed.
“Mara?”
Caleb.
She opened it two inches.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had a nightmare.”
“Where’s your nanny?”
“She’s sleeping.”
“You walked all the way down here alone?”
He nodded.
She opened the door wider.
Caleb looked at her face.
“You’re scared.”
“No.”
“You are.”
Kids were terrible for lying to.
Mara crouched.
“Just tired.”
He noticed the photograph.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
He reached.
She pulled it away.
Too fast.
Caleb frowned.
“Okay.”
Guilt hit her.
“Sorry.”
He shrugged.
“I get scared too.”
Mara looked at him.
“What was your nightmare?”
“My mom.”
She knew Caleb’s mother had died three years earlier in a car accident.
“What about her?”
“I couldn’t remember her voice.”
The words hit harder than Mara expected.
She sat beside him.
“My mom used to sing when she cooked.”
“Do you remember?”
“Every word.”
“Then you’re lucky.”
“No.”
Mara stared at the photograph.
“Remembering can hurt too.”
Caleb leaned against her.
A moment later, another knock came.
This one was heavier.
Dominic.
He stood in the hallway wearing black pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
His eyes moved from Caleb to Mara.
Then to the photograph in her hand.
Mara folded it instantly.
“Caleb.”
Dominic’s voice was controlled.
“You scared half the security team.”
“I had a nightmare.”
“You could’ve called me.”
“You were working.”
Dominic’s expression softened for half a second.
Then Caleb pointed at Mara.
“She was scared too.”
Mara closed her eyes.
Wonderful.
Dominic looked at her.
“Were you?”
“No.”
“Apparently we have two liars in the hallway.”
Caleb giggled.
Dominic did not.
He picked up his son.
As he turned away, he said, “My office. Tomorrow morning. Eight.”
Mara’s stomach dropped.
“Why?”
Dominic looked back.
“Because people who aren’t afraid don’t hide photographs when I walk into a room.”
The next morning, Mara entered his office.
Dominic sat behind a massive desk.
The photograph lay in front of him.
Her photograph.
Mara went cold.
“You searched my room?”
“No.”
“Then how did you get that?”
“You dropped it last night.”
She hadn’t realized.
Dominic pushed it across the desk.
“Who is she?”
Mara looked at the image.
“My cousin.”
“Name?”
“Emily.”
Dominic stared at her for three silent seconds.
Then he reached into a drawer.
He pulled out another photo.
Same girl.
Same face.
Different place.
Underneath it was a police file.
May you like
Dominic leaned back.
“Try again, Anna.”
