Chapter 1 - THE FOUR WORDS
Lorenzo DeLuca stared down at the three-year-old girl gripping the fabric of his trousers.
Emma Rossi stared back at him with the solemn confidence only a child could have.
For several seconds, he forgot the three hundred people standing behind him.
He forgot the violinist.
He forgot Isabella's portrait.
He forgot how to breathe.
The four words Emma had whispered were still echoing inside his skull.
“Your daughter is alive.”
Lorenzo slowly crouched until his eyes were level with hers.
“What did you say?”
Emma hugged her gray rabbit tighter.
“Your baby.”
Her voice was barely louder than the rain tapping against the mansion windows.
“She isn't in the ground.”
Five steps away, Marco Bellini shifted his weight.
Marco had been Lorenzo's closest friend since they were fifteen.
He had helped Lorenzo bury his father.
He had stood beside him during wars.
He had carried Isabella's coffin eight months earlier.
Now Marco watched Lorenzo with narrowed eyes.
But Lorenzo was no longer watching him.
He was looking across the ballroom.
At Sophia Rossi.
The maid had gone completely still.
A silver tray trembled in her hands.
Lorenzo stood.
“Sophia.”
The entire room seemed to hear his voice despite how softly he spoke.
Sophia lowered the tray.
“Mr. DeLuca.”
“Come here.”
She didn't move.
Lorenzo's gaze hardened.
“Now.”
Three hundred conversations died at once.
Sophia walked across the marble floor with the slow steps of someone approaching a cliff.
Emma immediately reached for her mother's hand.
Lorenzo looked at Sophia.
“Your daughter just told me mine is alive.”
Sophia's eyes filled with terror.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Terror.
That was the first thing Lorenzo noticed.
The second was Marco.
Behind Sophia, his oldest friend had gone pale.
Lorenzo turned slightly.
Marco immediately forced his face back into calm.
“What does Emma mean?” Lorenzo asked.
Sophia swallowed.
“She's three.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“She hears things.”
“From whom?”
Sophia's lips parted.
No answer came.
Lorenzo stepped closer.
The people nearest them slowly backed away.
“Sophia.”
His voice became quieter.
“Eight months ago, I put an empty coffin into the ground because there was nothing left of my daughter to bury.”
Sophia's chin trembled.
“If you know something, tell me now.”
Emma suddenly tugged at Sophia's sleeve.
“Mommy.”
Sophia looked down.
The little girl pointed toward Isabella's portrait.
“The lady from the room.”
Lorenzo froze.
“What room?”
Sophia shut her eyes.
“Emma, please.”
But the child continued.
“The lady who cries.”
Lorenzo's heart slammed once against his ribs.
The room seemed to tilt.
Isabella was dead.
He had seen her body.
He had touched her cold face.
He had identified the silver swallow necklace around her neck.
There could be no mistake.
Except suddenly Lorenzo remembered something he had refused to think about for eight months.
The face had been badly burned.
The identification had depended on jewelry.
Dental records had supposedly confirmed it later.
Supposedly.
Lorenzo turned to his security chief.
“Antonio.”
Antonio Russo stepped forward immediately.
“Lock the house.”
A murmur moved through the guests.
“No one leaves.”
Marco frowned.
“Lorenzo, there are senators here.”
“I don't care.”
“Federal judges.”
“I don't care.”
“People will ask questions.”
Lorenzo finally looked directly at him.
“Let them.”
Something flickered across Marco's face.
It lasted less than a second.
Fear.
Lorenzo saw it.
And suddenly the memorial no longer felt like a funeral.
It felt like a crime scene.
Sophia began crying silently.
Lorenzo faced her again.
“Where is my daughter?”
Sophia whispered two words.
“I'll show you.”
Marco took one step forward.
“Sophia.”
She looked at him.
And Lorenzo saw the warning in Marco's eyes.
Sophia saw it too.
Her face turned white.
That was when Lorenzo understood something far worse than the possibility that his daughter had survived.
Someone inside his own house had known.
May you like
Someone he trusted had helped bury the truth.
And the person standing closest to him seemed terrified that Sophia was finally about to speak.
