Chapter 7 - The Mafia Boss's Most Dangerous Secret
I read the birth certificate seventeen times.
Each time, the words remained the same.
Lucy Elizabeth Shaw.
Mother: Elizabeth Vale.
Father: Daniel Shaw.
"My father had another daughter?"
My voice sounded unfamiliar.
Adrian sat across from me without interrupting.
I wanted him to say it was a mistake.
A forgery.
A misunderstanding.
Anything.
Instead, he said, "We need to verify the document."
I laughed bitterly.
"Of course we do."
I stared at the date.
Lucy had supposedly been born shortly after Elizabeth disappeared.
My father died three days after that.
It was the sort of timing that made every ordinary explanation seem impossible.
"Was he having an affair?" I asked.
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"Your father spoke about your mother with tremendous affection. I never saw evidence suggesting he was involved with Elizabeth romantically."
"Then why is his name on the certificate?"
"I don't know."
"You're saying that a lot tonight."
"Because I won't invent answers just to make this easier."
I hated how much I appreciated that.
Marco returned with news from the authorities.
The property at Willow Creek Road appeared occupied, but nobody answered when officers arrived.
The child welfare unit had been notified about the anonymous photograph.
Neighbors reported seeing a woman with dark hair leaving the property regularly.
No one could confirm a child lived there.
I placed the birth certificate on Adrian's desk.
"Someone wants me to go there."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Possibly because they believe you'll act emotionally."
I gave him a cold look.
"Finding out I might have a sister tends to do that."
He nodded.
"Understandably."
Then he added, "But there's another possibility."
"What?"
"They may need you to unlock the information Daniel left behind."
We looked toward the storage device.
"Why me?"
"Your father encrypted the files. The access credentials could be something personal."
A memory stirred.
Dad, kneeling beside my bed.
Me, complaining that I couldn't remember the password to our family computer.
He had laughed and said, Then make it something nobody else could ever understand.
I'd chosen a silly phrase about stars and pancakes.
He'd never forgotten it.
I looked at Adrian.
"There's something I want to try."
Marco contacted the independent digital forensic specialist working with the investigators.
An hour later, we sat in front of a secure workstation while the specialist explained the procedure.
I supplied a childhood phrase.
The first attempt failed.
I tried a second variation.
Failed.
Then I remembered the words on the back of my father's photograph.
More than every star in the sky.
I whispered the phrase.
The specialist entered the credentials.
A progress bar appeared.
Then the encrypted archive opened.
Nobody spoke.
Folders filled the screen.
Financial ledgers.
Equipment logs.
Shipment manifests.
Internal messages.
Photographs.
And a file labeled:
NIGHTJAR — SUBJECT L.E.S.
The specialist opened a copy.
A video appeared.
My father sat in a poorly lit room.
He looked exhausted.
Behind him, a younger Elizabeth Vale held a bundled newborn.
"Emma," he began.
My hands flew to my mouth.
"If you're watching this, I need you to know something important."
His voice cracked.
"The child with Elizabeth is not mine. Her father's name is Thomas Vale."
I looked at Adrian.
He remained motionless.
My father continued.
"Thomas discovered that Nightjar was being used to conceal illegal transfers and divert money through charitable accounts. Elizabeth found evidence that several children connected to vulnerable families were being used as identities in fraudulent financial records."
He paused to collect himself.
"Thomas was threatened. So was Elizabeth. We created a temporary false identity for their daughter so the people involved couldn't locate her through official records. I used my surname with the intention of correcting everything when they were safe."
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
Lucy wasn't my biological sister.
But my father had risked his life to protect her.
"Emma, I know this is an impossible burden to leave you. But if the worst happens, remember that none of these people should have to face this alone."
He looked directly into the camera.
"And please don't hate Adrian Russo for what his father has done. I believe the son is capable of becoming a better man."
The video ended.
For several seconds, the only sound in the office was the hum of the computer.
I pressed both hands against my face.
My father's voice.
After eleven years, I'd heard it again.
Not through an old voicemail.
Not in a dream.
But speaking directly to me.
Adrian stood and quietly moved away, giving me room to cry.
When I finally looked up, he was standing by the window.
"Your father had too much faith in me," he said.
"Maybe he knew something you didn't."
Adrian turned.
Our eyes met.
For one brief moment, the frightening circumstances surrounding us seemed distant.
Then Marco's phone rang.
His expression changed as he listened.
"What happened?" Adrian asked.
Marco lowered the device.
"The woman from the sedan has been identified."
"Who?"
"Her name is Catherine Vale."
I frowned.
"Vale?"
Marco nodded.
"Thomas Vale's younger sister. She disappeared from public records around the same time as Elizabeth."
"Is she the woman in the photograph?"
"Yes."
I stood.
"Then she might know where Lucy is."
Marco's hesitation made my stomach tighten.
"What aren't you telling us?"
He turned the phone toward Adrian.
A message had arrived from an encrypted number.
Attached was a photograph taken inside Mercy General Hospital.
It showed me treating Adrian behind curtain four.
Someone had photographed us through the narrow gap in the curtain.
Beneath it were the words:
THE NURSE WAS NEVER AN ACCIDENT.
And then another message arrived.
Ask Adrian why he really came to Mercy General that night.
I slowly turned toward him.
"Adrian?"
He didn't look surprised.
May you like
He looked devastated.
And that frightened me considerably more.
