Chapter 9 - Matteo Remembered the Night of the Explosion
Samuel's image vanished after eleven seconds.
We recorded it.
No location data.
No metadata.
No obvious clue.
Just a frightened man saying the murderer lived inside my house.
That sentence poisoned everything.
My guards.
Staff.
Dominic.
Luca.
Clara.
Even myself, in the darkest interpretation.
I moved Matteo to a secure suite adjacent to my bedroom.
He protested.
“I like my room.”
“For tonight.”
“You always say that.”
I looked at him.
He was right.
“For two nights.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
He studied me.
“You break promises.”
Children don't soften truths.
“I'll try not to break this one.”
He nodded.
Clara stayed in the adjoining room.
I doubled guards.
Then I removed half the guards because if Samuel was right, more people didn't necessarily mean more safety.
At 2:13 a.m., Matteo woke shouting.
I ran in.
He was sweating.
“Mom!”
I sat beside him.
“I'm here.”
“No, Mom was—”
He looked around.
Clara entered.
“What happened?”
Matteo covered his face.
“I remember.”
I wanted to ask.
I didn't.
He took several breaths.
“The explosion.”
Clara sat opposite me.
“Tell us only what you want.”
Matteo stared at the blanket.
“We were in the car.”
“Yes.”
“Mom was on the phone.”
“With who?”
“She said, ‘Samuel, stop calling me.’”
Clara's face changed.
Matteo continued.
“She sounded mad.”
“What else?”
“She said, ‘Vincent cannot know until I have proof.’”
I closed my eyes.
Then Matteo whispered:
“Then she saw the motorcycle.”
“What motorcycle?”
“Black.”
“Who was riding it?”
“I don't know.”
“Did it follow you?”
He nodded.
“Mom told the driver to speed up.”
Our driver that day had been killed.
Matteo's breathing increased.
Clara touched his hand.
“You can stop.”
“No.”
He wanted it out.
“The car stopped.”
“Why?”
“Something in the road.”
“What?”
“A truck.”
I remembered the investigation report.
A delivery truck had stalled ahead, forcing our vehicle to slow.
Police called it coincidence.
Maybe not.
“Then Mom unbuckled.”
My chest tightened.
“She unbuckled?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Matteo started crying.
“She climbed toward me.”
I knew what was coming.
“She put her arms around me.”
That was why Matteo survived.
Elena had covered him.
The reinforced side panel absorbed part of the blast.
Her body absorbed the rest.
Matteo whispered, “She knew.”
No eight-year-old should carry that realization.
“She knew something was going to happen.”
Maybe seconds before.
Maybe only instinct.
But Elena had protected him.
“What happened next?”
“Light.”
He shut his eyes.
“Noise.”
I took his hand.
Then he whispered, “And after…”
My pulse stopped.
“You remember after?”
“A little.”
“What?”
“I couldn't move.”
His voice shook.
“There was smoke.”
“Yes.”
“A man opened the door.”
Dominic had told me he arrived moments after the blast.
“Uncle Dominic?”
Matteo shook his head.
“No.”
The room froze.
“Who?”
“The red-shoe man.”
Elias Vane.
“He was there after the explosion?”
Matteo nodded.
“What did he do?”
“He reached inside.”
“For you?”
Matteo began trembling.
“No.”
“For Mom?”
Another shake of the head.
“What did he take?”
Matteo looked at me.
“Her necklace.”
Elena had worn a gold pendant the morning she died.
It was never recovered.
Investigators assumed it had been lost in the fire.
“What necklace?”
“The one you gave her.”
My throat tightened.
Inside that pendant was a tiny compartment.
Elena used to keep a folded photograph of Matteo inside.
At least that's what I believed.
“What did he do after taking it?”
“He looked at me.”
Matteo's face went pale.
“And said, ‘I'm sorry, kid.’”
Then?
“He ran.”
“Before Dominic arrived?”
“Yes.”
That changed the timeline completely.
Dominic had always claimed he had been the first person to reach the vehicle after the explosion.
If Matteo was right, he wasn't.
The question became whether Dominic knew that.
I waited until morning.
Then I called my oldest friend into the security room.
“Were you first at the bombing?”
“Yes.”
“Certain?”
“Yes.”
“Matteo remembers another man.”
Dominic went still.
“Who?”
“Elias Vane.”
His face drained.
I saw it.
Recognition.
“Why do you know that name?”
Dominic said nothing.
“Answer me.”
His eyes closed.
“Because I saw him.”
The world narrowed.
“At the bombing?”
“Yes.”
“You lied.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
Dominic looked toward Monitor Four.
“From knowing Elena was alive when Elias took her necklace.”
I stepped toward him.
“What?”
“She was conscious for maybe thirty seconds.”
My breath disappeared.
“You told me she died instantly.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because of what she said.”
My hands shook.
“What did my wife say?”
Dominic's voice broke.
“She looked at me and said, ‘Don't let Vincent trust the doctor.’”
Clara stood in the doorway.
She had heard everything.
May you like
And none of us knew whether Elena meant Samuel Hayes—
or someone else entirely.
