Chapter 8 - ELENA’S LAST MESSAGE
Daniel survived surgery.
Barely.
The bullet missed his liver by less than an inch.
Ava sat beside his hospital bed until dawn.
Victor stood in the hallway.
Marcus arrived carrying coffee.
“You need sleep.”
Ava laughed tiredly.
“I have a four-month-old. Sleep is a rumor.”
Marcus almost smiled.
Then his face became serious.
“There’s something you should know.”
Ava looked at him.
“What now?”
“Elena called me the night she died.”
Ava went still.
“You spoke to my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
Marcus sat across from her.
“She knew someone had found her.”
“Crowe?”
“She didn’t know.”
“What did she say?”
Marcus swallowed.
“She asked me to protect you.”
Ava stared.
“And you didn’t.”
“No.”
The honesty made her angrier.
“I thought keeping my distance was safer.”
“My mother died.”
“I know.”
“My trust fund disappeared.”
“I know.”
“My son was threatened.”
“I know.”
Ava leaned closer.
“Then stop saying you know.”
Marcus lowered his head.
“You’re right.”
After sunrise, Victor drove Ava to the downtown public library.
Elena had once volunteered there.
Ava remembered sitting in the children’s section while her mother shelved books.
They searched old records.
Locker rentals.
Archived donor boxes.
Nothing.
Then Ava remembered a phrase Elena used constantly.
“When people hide the truth, read between the lines.”
Ava walked toward the fiction section.
Her mother loved classic mysteries.
Agatha Christie.
Raymond Chandler.
Patricia Highsmith.
Ava pulled one book.
Nothing.
Then another.
Behind an old copy of The Maltese Falcon was a small envelope taped to the shelf.
Her name was written across it.
AVA.
Her knees weakened.
Victor stood beside her silently.
Inside was a key.
And a letter.
My beautiful girl,
If you are reading this, then I failed to keep the past away from you.
Ava covered her mouth.
She kept reading.
Your father loved you before he ever saw you. He made terrible choices, and I made some too. Do not let anyone turn him into a saint. But do not let them turn him into a monster either.
The people you must fear are the ones who smile while telling you they are family.
Ava frowned.
Victor leaned closer.
There was another line.
The man who betrayed us is not Martin Crowe.
Crowe only works for him.
Ava looked at Victor.
“Then who?”
The final line answered.
Trust the medallion. Never trust the oldest Hale.
Victor’s face changed.
Ava noticed.
“What?”
Victor stepped backward.
“My father wasn’t the oldest Hale.”
Ava stared.
“Who was?”
May you like
Victor whispered,
“Our uncle Richard.”
