Chapter 2 - The Man Waiting in the Garage

The parking garage was almost empty.

George walked ahead.

Matteo followed.

I followed them.

My name is Hannah Reed.

Twenty-seven.

Maid.

And somehow I had become part of a family secret older than my job.

Level Four.

Row C.

A black sedan waited beneath a broken light.

George stopped.

Matteo did not.

He walked toward the car.

The rear door opened.

A man stepped out.

Sixty-one.

Gray at the temples.

Lean.

Dark coat.

Matteo stopped breathing.

Daniel Rinaldi.

His father.

Officially dead for twelve years.

Alive.

Daniel looked at Matteo’s face.

Then at the black compass tattoo on his forearm.

His eyes filled.

“You kept the compass.”

Matteo looked down.

“You know about this?”

“You drew one on every map when you were a boy.”

Silence.

Matteo stepped closer.

“Say my name.”

Daniel swallowed.

“Matteo.”

The word broke something.

Matteo looked away.

Then back.

“You watched me bury you.”

“No.”

“You let me.”

“No.”

“You disappeared.”

“Yes.”

“Same thing.”

Daniel lowered his head.

George moved away.

So did I.

But Matteo’s voice carried through the garage.

“Why?”

Daniel looked at him.

“Because Richard tried to kill me.”

Matteo’s jaw tightened.

“The boat.”

“Yes.”

“You survived.”

“Yes.”

“And never came home.”

“I tried.”

“When?”

“Six weeks later.”

Matteo laughed without humor.

“I was nineteen.”

“I know.”

“You knew my mother was alone.”

“I know.”

“You knew I thought you were dead.”

“I know.”

“Stop saying that.”

Daniel went silent.

Then reached into his coat.

One photograph.

Matteo at nineteen.

Standing outside his mother’s funeral.

Taken from across the street.

Matteo stared.

“You were there?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“Because Richard was standing ten feet behind you.”

Matteo looked at the photograph again.

His uncle was visible near the church steps.

Daniel continued.

“I had already received the first letter from you.”

Matteo looked up.

“I never wrote one.”

“I know that now.”

“Now?”

Daniel reached into the car.

A box.

Dozens of letters.

All addressed to him.

All supposedly from Matteo.

Angry.

Cold.

Cruel.

Matteo picked up one.

I HOPE YOU STAY DEAD.

His hand shook.

Daniel said:

“I believed you hated me.”

Matteo looked at him.

“So you chose the letters over your son?”

Daniel flinched.

“No.”

“That is exactly what you did.”

George stepped closer.

“Matteo.”

“No.”

Matteo pointed at Daniel.

“He survived.”

Then pointed at the letters.

“And trusted paper more than me.”

Daniel nodded slowly.

“You are right.”

That stopped Matteo.

No excuse.

No defense.

Daniel continued.

“I was afraid.”

“Of Richard?”

“At first.”

“And later?”

“Of finding out the letters were real.”

Matteo stared.

Daniel looked ashamed.

“That was cowardice.”

Silence.

Then Matteo asked:

“What happened three weeks ago?”

Daniel looked toward the elevator.

“Victor Voss found me.”

“Elena’s father.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He discovered Richard had been moving money through both foundations.”

“Why meet in Vermont?”

“Because Victor believed his office was monitored.”

Matteo’s expression hardened.

“By Richard?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

Daniel hesitated.

“Someone inside Victor’s family.”

Matteo went still.

“Elena?”

Daniel shook his head.

“No.”

“Then who?”

Before Daniel could answer, the elevator doors opened.

Elena stepped out.

Deep red gown.

Bare shoulders.

No coat.

She had followed us.

Matteo looked at her.

“You should be upstairs.”

“So should you.”

Daniel turned toward her.

“Elena.”

She looked at him.

“You told me you were leaving tonight.”

“I changed my mind.”

Matteo noticed.

“You two have spoken before.”

Elena nodded.

“How many times?”

“Four.”

“Without telling me.”

“Yes.”

Matteo laughed quietly.

Daniel said:

“She came to me first.”

Matteo turned.

“What?”

Elena looked at Daniel.

Then Matteo.

“Your father didn’t contact me.”

“Then how did you find him?”

She hesitated.

“Someone sent me his address.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Daniel’s face changed.

“That is not what you told me.”

Elena looked at him sharply.

Matteo stepped between them.

“What did she tell you?”

Daniel answered:

“She said her brother found me.”

Matteo frowned.

“Elena doesn’t have a brother.”

Silence.

Elena went pale.

Matteo looked at her.

“You told my father you had a brother?”

“No.”

Daniel stared.

“That is exactly what you said.”

Elena shook her head.

“I said my father’s investigator.”

Daniel looked confused.

George’s expression changed first.

“Daniel.”

He held up one hand.

“When did you first meet Elena?”

“Three months ago.”

George looked at Matteo.

Then Elena.

“Elena was in Paris three months ago.”

Matteo stared.

She nodded slowly.

“I was.”

Daniel went still.

“No.”

Elena whispered:

“That wasn’t me.”

Everyone looked at him.

Daniel took out his phone.

Opened a photograph.

A woman sitting across from him at a café.

Same height.

Same dark hair.

Same face.

Almost.

Elena looked at the screen.

Then whispered:

“Oh my God.”

Matteo looked at her.

“You know her.”

Elena’s eyes filled.

“Yes.”

“Who is she?”

Elena swallowed.

“My sister.”

Matteo stared.

“You said you were an only child.”

“I was told she died when we were children.”

Daniel lowered the phone.

George whispered:

“Then somebody has been using a dead woman to move between both families.”

Matteo looked at Elena.

“What is her name?”

Elena answered.

“Sofia Voss.”

Daniel’s face changed.

“That is the name she used.”

And suddenly the woman Daniel believed was Elena was not an impostor.

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She was the sister Elena had been told was dead for twenty-four years.

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