Chapter 2 - The Woman Waiting in Washington

Damian left the gala before midnight.

Walter came with him.

So did I.

Olivia Hart.

Twenty-seven.

Maid.

Still wearing the black service dress Veronica had chosen for the staff.

The train left at 12:40.

Damian sat beside the window.

Twenty-two letters rested on his lap.

He had read only five.

The sixth began:

SON, IF YOU EVER HATE ME, PLEASE HATE ME AFTER YOU KNOW WHO KEPT ME AWAY.

Damian stopped reading.

Walter looked at him.

“You should sleep.”

Damian laughed once.

“My mother has been alive for seventeen years.”

He looked at the letter.

“I think sleep can wait.”

We arrived in Washington before dawn.

Walter took us to an old hotel near Union Station.

Room 603.

Damian stood outside the door.

The bank key was still in his hand.

He knocked.

Nothing.

Again.

Then the door opened.

Elena Russo stood there.

Fifty-seven.

Silver in her dark hair.

Thin face.

Same gray eyes as Damian.

A scar crossed the inside of her left wrist.

Damian stared.

Elena covered her mouth.

“Damian.”

He did not move.

She started crying.

Not loudly.

Just enough to make her shoulders shake.

Damian whispered:

“You’re alive.”

“Yes.”

“You called Veronica.”

“Yes.”

“You wrote twenty-two letters.”

“Yes.”

“You knew where I was.”

Elena nodded.

Damian’s face hardened.

“Then why didn’t you come home?”

Her eyes closed.

“Because every time I tried, someone reminded me what would happen to you.”

Damian looked at Walter.

Then back at her.

“Who?”

Elena stepped aside.

“Come in.”

On the table sat three folders.

One photograph.

One cassette recorder.

And a second bank key.

Damian noticed it immediately.

“Another box?”

Elena nodded.

“Box 609.”

“What is inside?”

“Proof.”

“Of what?”

She looked at him.

“That your uncle did not just pay Judge Hale.”

Damian’s jaw tightened.

“My uncle raised me.”

“I know.”

“His name is Marco Russo.”

“I know.”

Elena sat down.

“He also ordered the men who followed me for seventeen years.”

Silence.

Damian stopped.

“No.”

Elena looked at him.

“Yes.”

Walter closed the door.

Damian’s voice dropped.

“Marco told me you abandoned me.”

Elena’s eyes filled.

“He needed you to believe that.”

“Why?”

“Because after your father died, Marco needed control of the family.”

Damian frowned.

“My father died in a car crash.”

Elena looked at Walter.

Walter said nothing.

Damian saw it.

His face changed.

“Didn’t he?”

Elena whispered:

“No.”

Damian stared at her.

“What happened?”

She reached for the cassette recorder.

Pressed play.

A man’s voice filled the room.

Damian recognized it instantly.

His father.

Antonio Russo.

The recording was old.

Tense.

“Marco, if you touch Elena or Damian, I will give the Hale files to federal investigators.”

Damian froze.

Another voice answered.

Marco.

Calm.

“You won’t live long enough.”

The tape stopped.

Damian looked at Elena.

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“When was this?”

“Three days before your father died.”