Chapter 7 - The Road Back to Chicago
I hadn't seen Chicago in three years.
The skyline appeared just before sunset, rising beyond Lake Michigan in familiar silver and glass.
My stomach turned.
Home should not feel like a threat.
But Chicago contained everything I had spent years trying to forget.
My marriage.
My father.
My sister.
The bedroom.
The life of Elena Bellini.
Mila pressed her face against the car window.
"Those buildings are huge."
Leo pointed.
"Do you live in the tallest one, Marco?"
"No."
"Why?"
Marco considered.
"Too windy."
Leo accepted that.
We had brought the twins because leaving them behind no longer felt safer.
Daniel arranged a secure apartment in a building owned by one of his cousins.
Nothing connected publicly to Marco.
For once, Marco had agreed without argument.
The children had become the center of every decision.
That changed him.
Or maybe it revealed the man beneath the version I'd known.
On the drive, we barely discussed the message.
COME LEARN WHICH ONE OF THEM CHOSE YOUR DISAPPEARANCE.
But the unanswered accusation lived between us.
"You knew about the trust," I finally said after the twins fell asleep.
Marco looked out the window.
"Part of it."
"Tell me all of it."
"My grandfather called me three weeks before our wedding."
"And?"
"He told me our families had shared interests going back decades. Said marrying you would simplify a future transfer."
"You didn't think that was important?"
"I was furious."
"Why?"
"Because I loved you."
I laughed bitterly.
"That's your defense?"
"It's the truth."
He turned toward me.
"I told him if he ever suggested I was marrying you for money again, he could remove me from every company bearing the Bellini name."
I studied him.
"What did he say?"
"That I sounded like my grandmother."
"Was that good?"
"No idea."
Despite myself, my mouth twitched.
Marco continued.
"He never told me children activated the trust."
"Would you have married me if you'd known?"
"Yes."
"Would you have told me?"
His hesitation answered.
"I don't know."
That hurt more than I expected.
"At least that's honest."
"I was raised around information being treated like currency."
"That's a terrible excuse."
"I know."
We sat silently.
Then Marco said, "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"
I stared forward.
"I was going to."
"When?"
"The night everything happened."
His breath changed.
"I bought a tiny pair of socks."
His eyes closed.
"They were in my purse when I ran."
"What color?"
"White."
"Where are they?"
I looked at him.
"You think I kept them?"
"Did you?"
Of course I had.
They were inside a box in Gray Hollow along with the twins' hospital bracelets and first ultrasound photograph.
"Yes."
Marco nodded once.
His eyes looked wet.
"I'd like to see them someday."
Someday.
He didn't assume.
That mattered.
At the apartment, Mila immediately declared Marco's room too dark and opened every curtain.
Leo found the piano.
Neither child had ever seen one up close.
Marco sat beside him.
"Want to try?"
Leo touched one key.
A low note sounded.
His face lit up.
Mila rushed over.
For the next fifteen minutes, the world's worst concert took place.
Marco laughed.
Not politely.
Really laughed.
I stood in the hallway watching.
That sound belonged to another life.
A life where Marco came home after midnight, loosened his tie, and found me waiting on the kitchen counter with cold pasta.
A life where we danced in our living room without music.
Before family secrets and money and betrayal.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I left the room.
"Hello?"
"Elena."
My father's voice.
I gripped the phone.
"Dad."
The word tasted strange.
"Thank God."
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Are you in Chicago?"
"Why?"
"You need to leave."
I laughed.
"You had three years to tell me that."
"You don't understand."
"No. Apparently I'm the only person who never understood anything."
"Elena, listen carefully. Marco's family—"
"Stop."
"You cannot trust them."
"And I can trust you?"
Silence.
I continued.
"I saw the tape."
He inhaled sharply.
"What tape?"
"Mom's."
Long silence.
"Where did you get it?"
"Pike's Bakery."
"That should have been destroyed."
The words escaped him.
My eyes closed.
"So you knew."
"Elena—"
"You knew Mom left evidence."
"Listen to me."
"You paid to have me followed."
"I paid to keep you safe."
"You helped Sofia stage the bedroom."
"No."
I froze.
"No?"
"I knew she wanted you and Marco separated."
"But?"
"I didn't know her method until afterward."
The hallway seemed to narrow around me.
"You were on the security footage."
"I came because Sofia called me."
"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"
"Because you were already gone."
"You knew where I was."
"No."
"Your company tracked me."
"My company had been compromised."
"By Sofia?"
A pause.
"By someone else."
"Who?"
"I can't tell you over the phone."
"Convenient."
"Meet me."
"Where?"
"Tomorrow. Ten in the morning. Lincoln Park Conservatory."
"Why there?"
"Your mother loved it."
I swallowed.
"Dad."
"Yes?"
"Did you know I was pregnant?"
Long silence.
"Not until after you disappeared."
"Did Sofia?"
Another silence.
"Yes."
My knees weakened.
"And you still helped her?"
"I thought she wanted to end your marriage."
"That's supposed to make it better?"
"No."
For the first time, my father sounded old.
"I made a terrible mistake."
"What does Sofia want?"
"Control."
"Of the trust?"
"Of everything."
"Why?"
"Because she believes it should have been hers."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Before he answered, a noise came from the other end.
A door.
Then my father whispered.
"I have to go."
"Where are you?"
"Don't trust the meeting tomorrow night."
"What meeting?"
"St. Catherine's."
My blood chilled.
"Who told you?"
"Elena, Sofia isn't working alone."
"Who is?"
The line crackled.
Then my father's voice returned.
"Ask Marco what happened to Dr. Greer."
I looked toward the living room.
Marco was showing Leo another piano key.
"What happened to him?"
My father whispered, "He disappeared the same night you did."
The call ended.
I stood frozen.
Marco looked up.
He saw my face and came toward me.
"What happened?"
"Where is Dr. Greer?"
Marco stopped.
The silence lasted one second too long.
I stepped backward.
"No."
"Elena."
"You know."
"Yes."
My heart hammered.
"What happened to him?"
Marco's jaw tightened.
"I found him two weeks after you disappeared."
"And?"
"He admitted Sofia paid him."
"For what?"
"To put something in my drink."
I could barely breathe.
"What did you do to him?"
"Nothing."
"Marco."
"I was going to take his statement to the police."
"Going to?"
"He disappeared before he could sign it."
My father's words echoed.
Ask Marco what happened to Dr. Greer.
"You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with that?"
"I didn't."
"Then where is he?"
"I don't know."
Daniel entered the hallway.
His expression made everything worse.
"Actually," he said quietly, "we may know now."
Marco turned.
"What?"
Daniel held out a tablet.
A hospital database was open.
"Dr. Nathan Greer was admitted under another name in Wisconsin three days ago."
I stared at the screen.
"Alive?"
"Alive."
"Can he talk?"
Daniel nodded.
"And according to the attending physician, he's been asking for Elena."
My pulse raced.
"Why?"
Daniel looked at Marco.
"Because he says he kept something for her."
"What?"
"A recording."
Marco became very still.
"Of what?"
Daniel swallowed.
"The conversation between Sofia and whoever ordered the entire setup."
Tomorrow, my father wanted to meet.
Tomorrow night, Sofia wanted Marco and me at the church where we'd married.
But somewhere in Wisconsin, a man who had helped destroy my life held the one thing that might expose everyone involved.
I looked at Marco.
"We're going to Wisconsin."
He nodded.
No argument.
No command.
Just one word.
"Tonight."
May you like
Because this time, nobody else was going to decide which truth I was allowed to hear.
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