Chapter 2 - The Photograph Behind the Flowers
By sunrise, the photograph had disappeared.
Norah knew because she checked.
The antique table beside Rosa's bed was empty except for the vase.
Gabriel had taken the photograph sometime after leaving the room.
He had also vanished.
That morning, nobody mentioned what they had discovered.
Breakfast arrived precisely at seven.
Coffee.
Toast.
Eggs.
A bowl of fruit nobody expected Norah to eat.
The man who brought the tray normally greeted her with a polite nod.
Today he avoided her eyes.
That told Norah everything.
Gabriel had started asking questions.
And everyone in the estate knew.
Norah should have been relieved.
Whatever secret Rosa had carried for decades was not her responsibility.
Norah had enough problems.
Her landlord had sent another message.
Her car needed repairs.
The agency still had not corrected an insurance error from months earlier.
She needed the Gallow paycheck.
She did not need the Gallow mystery.
At eight fifteen she collected her bag and headed toward the employee entrance.
A voice stopped her.
“Norah.”
Gabriel stood at the end of the corridor.
He had changed clothes.
Gray suit.
White shirt.
No tie.
But he looked as if he had not slept.
“Come with me.”
“My shift is over.”
“I'll pay overtime.”
“You already pay an absurd amount.”
“Then consider this included.”
Norah stared at him.
“That isn't how employment works.”
“Please.”
The word surprised her.
Gabriel did not seem like a man who used it often.
Norah followed him.
He led her to a private study she had never entered before.
Bookshelves covered three walls.
Rain streaked the windows.
On the desk lay the photograph.
Beside it were several folders.
Gabriel closed the door.
“I found the man.”
Norah remained standing.
“The second man?”
“My uncle Matteo.”
“You didn't know your own uncle?”
“I knew his name. I was told he died before I was born.”
Gabriel pushed a file toward her.
Inside were old documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
A death certificate.
Matteo Gallow.
Death recorded twenty-nine years earlier.
Except the photograph beside it had been taken only nineteen years ago.
Norah looked up.
“Someone lied.”
“Apparently.”
Gabriel sat.
“When my father died, I was six. My mother told me almost nothing about that period.”
“Because she wanted to protect you?”
“That's what I always assumed.”
Norah looked toward the photograph.
“And the writing?”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
“I had it examined.”
“You have somebody who examines old handwriting before breakfast?”
“I have somebody for almost everything.”
Despite herself, Norah smiled.
Gabriel did not.
“The handwriting belongs to my mother.”
That eliminated one question.
And created ten more.
“Gabriel survived,” Norah said slowly.
“Yes.”
“You.”
“Yes.”
“Then why would your father need to believe you were dead?”
Gabriel stared toward the window.
“I don't know.”
For the first time, Norah understood what frightened him.
Gabriel had built his entire identity around certainty.
He knew who worked for him.
Who owed him.
Who lied.
Who could be trusted.
But suddenly he did not know the simplest thing.
What happened to him when he was six years old?
Norah sat across from him.
“Does Rosa remember that year?”
“Sometimes.”
“Don't interrogate her.”
His eyes shifted toward Norah.
“I wasn't planning to.”
“You were absolutely planning to.”
He almost smiled.
Then the office door opened.
An older man entered.
Silver hair.
Dark suit.
Calm expression.
Norah recognized him as Jude, one of Gabriel's longest-serving employees.
He stopped when he saw her.
“This conversation is private.”
Gabriel's voice remained quiet.
“She stays.”
Jude looked at Norah.
Something unreadable moved across his face.
“Your mother shouldn't have kept that photograph.”
Gabriel stood.
“You knew?”
Jude said nothing.
That silence was enough.
Gabriel's voice became colder.
“How long?”
“Gabriel.”
“How long have you known?”
“Since before your father died.”
Norah felt the atmosphere change.
Jude slowly closed the door.
“Your father believed someone inside the family had betrayed him.”
“Who?”
“Matteo.”
“My uncle.”
Jude nodded.
“Antonio believed Matteo wanted control.”
Gabriel stared.
“And me?”
“You were leverage.”
Norah shifted uneasily.
Jude continued.
“Rosa discovered that a plan was forming around you. So she created another story.”
“She told my father I died?”
“She convinced several people you had been taken away and killed.”
Gabriel's face hardened.
“But I was alive.”
“You were hidden.”
“Where?”
“With Matteo.”
Silence.
Norah looked between them.
That contradicted everything.
If Antonio believed Matteo was his enemy, why would Rosa send her child to him?
Gabriel asked the same question.
Jude lowered his voice.
“Because Matteo wasn't the traitor.”
Gabriel did not blink.
“Who was?”
Jude looked toward Norah again.
Then Gabriel.
“Your father.”
The words landed heavily.
Jude walked toward the window.
“Antonio became paranoid during his final years. He suspected everyone. Your mother feared what he might do.”
“To me?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel looked physically unable to accept the answer.
“My father loved me.”
“People can love someone and still become dangerous when fear controls them.”
Norah thought of patients she had seen during psychotic episodes.
Love did not always make people safe.
Jude continued.
“Rosa sent you away for eleven months. Matteo protected you.”
“Why don't I remember?”
“You were six.”
“I remember being six.”
“Not everything.”
Gabriel looked toward him sharply.
Jude stopped talking.
Norah caught it immediately.
“There is something else.”
Jude's expression changed.
Gabriel noticed too.
“What?”
The older man hesitated.
Then he opened one of the folders.
Inside was a hospital document.
Gabriel grabbed it.
Norah watched his eyes move across the page.
Patient.
Six-year-old male.
Head trauma.
Temporary memory impairment.
Gabriel sat slowly.
“I was hospitalized.”
“For three weeks.”
“Why?”
Jude swallowed.
“The official story was a fall.”
“And the real story?”
The door behind them opened again.
This time everyone turned.
Rosa stood there.
Barefoot.
Wearing her cream nightgown.
Norah jumped up.
“Rosa!”
Nobody understood how she had left the bedroom alone.
Rosa ignored Norah.
She stared at Jude.
Her entire body trembled.
Then she looked at Gabriel.
For one extraordinary moment her cloudy eyes became perfectly clear.
“Your father didn't hurt you,” she whispered.
Gabriel froze.
Rosa began crying.
May you like
“I did.”
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