Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Knew My Sister
My sister had been dead for eighteen years.
Her name was Elena.
Nobody used her name around me.
Not Nico.
Not my oldest friends.
Nobody.
Yet Sarah Carver had just spoken it without hesitation.
At Northwestern Memorial, Lily sat beside me in the waiting room wrapped in a hospital blanket.
Nico stood near the windows.
Sarah was undergoing scans.
Dean was in police custody.
I looked at Lily.
“Where did you get the phone?”
“Mama’s drawer.”
“And she told you to call me?”
Lily nodded.
“If something really bad happened.”
“How long have you had my number?”
“A long time.”
“How long?”
She shrugged.
“Since my birthday?”
“When was that?”
“March.”
Nico looked away, hiding a smile.
I ignored him.
“What did your mother say about me?”
Lily thought.
“She said you’re scary.”
Nico coughed.
I looked at him.
“Problem?”
“Nothing.”
Lily continued.
“But she said sometimes scary people scare worse people.”
Nico actually smiled.
“Smart mother.”
A doctor appeared.
“Family of Sarah Carver?”
Lily stood.
“I’m her daughter.”
The doctor crouched.
“Your mom is stable.”
“Can I see her?”
“Soon.”
Lily looked at me.
“Stable means good?”
“It means she’s still fighting.”
She accepted that.
The doctor pulled me aside.
“She has a concussion and several older injuries. We’re keeping her overnight.”
“Can she talk?”
“For a few minutes.”
Sarah looked smaller in the hospital bed.
Lily immediately climbed beside her.
Sarah kissed her forehead.
“My brave girl.”
“I texted him.”
“I know.”
“He came.”
Sarah looked at me.
“I knew he would.”
“Why?”
She looked toward Lily.
“Sweetheart, can you go with Mr. DeLuca for five minutes?”
Lily narrowed her eyes at Nico.
“Where?”
“Vending machines,” Nico offered.
“Can I have chocolate?”
“Anything you want.”
“Two?”
Nico sighed.
“You negotiate like Vincent.”
They left.
I closed the door.
“Talk.”
Sarah looked exhausted.
“I knew Elena Moretti.”
“How?”
“She volunteered at St. Anne’s shelter.”
That stopped me.
Elena had never told me.
“She helped women leave bad homes,” Sarah continued. “I was sixteen when I met her.”
“Elena died when you were sixteen?”
“Seventeen.”
I calculated.
It fit.
“She told me about her brother,” Sarah said. “The one who scared everybody but always walked her home.”
I looked away.
“She gave me a number.”
“This number didn’t exist eighteen years ago.”
“No.”
Sarah reached toward the bedside drawer.
“My bag.”
Inside was an old piece of paper.
A name.
Vincent Moretti.
Beneath it was a number that had been disconnected for years.
“My mother kept this,” Sarah said. “After Elena died, she told me if I ever needed protection, find you.”
“Then how did you get my current number?”
Her face changed.
“Dean.”
I stared at her.
“He had it?”
“I saw it on his phone.”
That was worse.
My private number was supposed to be restricted.
Sarah whispered, “He was messaging someone named F.”
Frankie.
Nico returned without Lily.
“She’s with a nurse.”
I handed him the information.
His expression darkened.
“I’ll check Dean’s connections.”
“Do it.”
Sarah grabbed my wrist.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Dean wasn't just collecting money.”
“What was he doing?”
“He kept records for Frankie.”
“Records of what?”
“I don't know. But three nights ago, I heard Dean say, ‘If Moretti sees the ledger, Frankie’s finished.’”
Nico and I exchanged a look.
Sarah continued.
“Dean hid something in our house.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
I headed for the door.
“Vincent.”
I stopped.
“Please don't leave Lily alone.”
I looked through the glass.
Lily was standing beside a nurse, holding two chocolate bars.
One for herself.
One for Nico.
A child I had never met had somehow walked straight into a war she didn't understand.
“She won't be alone,” I said.
May you like
Then I looked at Nico.
“Find Frankie.”
