Chapter 13 - Elena Opens the Locked Basement
Reopening Carter's Bread & Pie should have been simple.
It wasn't.
The plumbing was ancient.
The electrical system offended two different inspectors.
One oven had apparently been manufactured when disco was still considered a reasonable future for civilization.
Elena loved every problem.
For the first time in eight years, frustration felt like progress.
Vincent honored his promise.
He did not take over.
That was harder for him than any legal dispute.
When contractors asked him questions, he said:
“Ask Elena.”
When suppliers tried offering discounts because of his name, Elena negotiated personally.
When a designer presented black marble counters costing more than her original annual salary, Elena stared at Vincent.
“You did this.”
“I made one suggestion.”
“We're a neighborhood bakery, not a villain's headquarters.”
“I don't have a villain headquarters.”
“That sounded exactly like something a man with a villain headquarters would say.”
They compromised on restored wood.
The community trust became real again.
Michael worked with nonprofit attorneys.
The twelve million dollars would fund job training, short-term housing support, counseling partnerships, childcare grants, and emergency relocation assistance.
Elena insisted the bakery itself remain a normal business.
“I don't want women walking in here wearing a label,” she said.
Vincent understood immediately.
“So publicly it's a bakery.”
“And privately, if someone needs help, we help.”
“Like Margaret.”
“Like Margaret.”
The locked basement became office and storage space.
While cleaning it, Elena found names scratched into a wooden beam.
Initials.
Dates.
Dozens.
Some accompanied by tiny hearts.
One read:
L.H. + V.H. SAFE HERE — 1998
Vincent stared.
“My mother wrote that.”
Elena touched the faded letters.
“You remember?”
“No.”
He took a photograph.
Then looked away.
Elena didn't push.
Their relationship grew slowly.
Not because attraction was missing.
That part was obvious.
It grew slowly because trust had become sacred.
Vincent asked before sending a car.
Elena told him when she needed space instead of disappearing.
He explained where he was going when business pulled him away.
She stopped assuming every expensive gesture was an attempt to buy control.
Mostly.
One evening, he arrived carrying flowers.
Elena stared.
“No.”
Vincent stopped.
“They're flowers.”
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“You definitely know.”
“Approximately—”
“No.”
He sighed.
“What flowers am I allowed to buy?”
“Grocery store.”
“You want supermarket flowers?”
“I want flowers that don't require a financial advisor.”
The next day, Vincent arrived with a twelve-dollar bouquet wrapped in plastic.
Elena laughed so hard she had to sit down.
He looked offended.
“You said grocery store.”
“I did.”
“You're impossible.”
“I've heard worse.”
He was learning.
Then came trouble.
Thomas Hale remained under investigation but free.
One afternoon, Elena discovered him standing outside the bakery.
Alone.
Vincent wasn't there.
She stepped outside.
“You shouldn't be here.”
Thomas looked older than before.
“Neither should you.”
“Yet here I am.”
He studied Margaret's restored sign.
“You think my son is different from me.”
“I think that's between him and himself.”
“Smart answer.”
“What do you want?”
Thomas took out an envelope.
“Something Margaret wrote.”
Elena did not take it.
“Why would you have anything from my grandmother?”
“She wrote me once.”
“When?”
“After Lucia died.”
Elena's skin prickled.
“Why?”
“To tell me she knew.”
“Knew what?”
Thomas looked at her.
“That I didn't order the crash.”
Elena stared.
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Thomas placed the envelope on a table outside.
“I expect Vincent not to.”
He left.
Elena called Vincent.
He arrived within twenty minutes.
When he saw the envelope, his face hardened.
“Don't open it.”
“Why?”
“He manipulates people.”
“So we verify it.”
Vincent stared at Margaret's handwriting.
Finally, Elena opened it.
The letter was genuine.
Margaret wrote that she believed Thomas had terrorized Lucia.
Controlled her.
Threatened her.
Ruined much of her life.
But she also wrote:
I do not believe you caused the crash.
Vincent read the sentence.
Again.
Again.
Elena watched his world shift.
“If not him…”
Vincent looked toward the basement.
“Someone else wanted those records.”
They reviewed Lucia's files.
One name appeared repeatedly beside Thomas's.
A partner.
Samuel Voss.
Arthur confirmed Voss had handled collections, payoffs, and bookkeeping.
He had disappeared from Chicago weeks after Lucia's death.
Elena searched online.
Samuel Voss was dead.
But his son wasn't.
Adrian Voss.
The man currently leading the development company that had nearly purchased the bakery.
Vincent stared at the screen.
“He wanted this building too.”
Elena felt cold.
Suddenly Thomas Hale might not be the person threatening them.
Which meant someone else had spent weeks hiding behind his reputation.
And the next morning, Adrian Voss requested a meeting with Elena.
May you like
Alone.
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