Chapter 3 - The Little Girl Who Had His Eyes|
Dominic did not sleep that morning.
He remained in the hospital waiting area while the rain gradually stopped and the city outside began another ordinary day.
People hurried into Mercy General carrying flowers, overnight bags, and cups of coffee.
Some left with relieved smiles.
Others walked out looking as though the world had ended.
Dominic watched them without truly seeing anyone.
Four years old.
He kept repeating the number in his head.
Four birthdays.
Four Christmas mornings.
Four years of bedtime stories, scraped knees, first words, and countless ordinary moments he would never get back.
At seven o'clock, Elena returned from speaking with Dr. Mitchell.
Her face was pale, but she appeared slightly calmer.
"She's stable for now," she said.
"The doctors are watching for complications from the head injury."
Dominic stood.
"Thank you for telling me."
Elena folded her arms.
"I didn't come back because we're friends."
"I understand."
"I came because June keeps asking why her mother hasn't called."
Dominic felt something tighten in his throat.
"Where is she?"
"With my husband."
"Is she safe?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
Then he asked the question he had been afraid to say aloud.
"Can I see her?"
Elena stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because I think she's my daughter."
"That didn't matter when Fiona was pregnant."
"I didn't know."
Elena's eyes flashed.
"She wrote to you when she found out."
"She wrote again after June was born."
"I never received anything."
For the first time, uncertainty crossed Elena's face.
"That's what Fiona believed you would say if she ever confronted you."
Dominic reached into his coat and pulled out his phone.
His instinct was to call his office, demand records, and make someone explain what had happened.
But Elena held up her hand.
"Before you start ordering people around, listen to me."
He lowered the phone.
"June is not a problem you can solve with money."
"She's a child who loves her mother and doesn't know you."
"And if Fiona wakes up, she gets a say in what happens next."
Dominic nodded slowly.
"You're right."
Elena looked exhausted by how easily he agreed.
"I'll let you meet her once," she finally said.
"But you will not tell her you're her father."
"Not until Fiona can be part of that conversation."
"I promise."
An hour later, Dominic stood outside a modest brick house in Lincoln Square.
His black sedan looked painfully out of place among the bicycles, flowerpots, and children's toys scattered along the neighboring porches.
He had ordered his bodyguards to remain several blocks away.
For once, he wanted to enter a room without making everyone inside feel threatened.
Elena opened the front door.
The smell of toasted bread and cinnamon drifted into the hallway.
Dominic froze for half a second.
It reminded him so strongly of Fiona's kitchen that he almost expected her to appear from another room.
Instead, he heard a small voice.
"Aunt Elena?"
A little girl stepped into the hallway carrying a stuffed rabbit with one floppy ear.
She had messy brown curls, pink socks, and a yellow sweater covered in tiny embroidered stars.
Her cheeks were rounder than Fiona's, but the shape of her mouth was unmistakable.
Then she looked up.
Dominic forgot how to breathe.
Her eyes were his.
Not simply the same shade of dark brown, but the same unusual amber flecks around the pupils that his mother had once called little sparks of sunlight.
"Who's that?" the girl asked.
Elena crouched beside her.
"This is Dominic."
"He's someone your mommy knew a long time ago."
June studied him with the serious concentration only young children seemed capable of.
"Are you a doctor?"
"No," Dominic answered softly.
"Do you know how to fix people?"
He felt Elena watching him.
"Not as well as I'd like."
June nodded as though that answer made perfect sense.
"My mommy got hurt."
"I heard."
"She's sleeping at the hospital."
"Yes."
June hugged her rabbit tighter.
"Uncle Peter says doctors are helping her."
"They are."
The little girl looked at Dominic's hands.
Then she pointed to the silver ring on his right hand.
"Are you married?"
Dominic blinked.
"No."
"Mommy isn't either."
Elena closed her eyes.
June continued before anyone could respond.
"Mommy says you don't have to be married to make a family."
Dominic crouched so they were closer to eye level.
"Your mommy is right."
June considered him for another moment.
"Do you want some toast?"
A painful smile touched his face.
"I'd like that."
They sat at the kitchen table while June carefully explained the rules of feeding her stuffed rabbit.
She insisted that the rabbit disliked strawberry jam but enjoyed honey.
Dominic listened to every word as if she were giving him instructions that might save his life.
On the refrigerator, he noticed drawings held in place by colorful magnets.
One showed a woman with brown hair standing beside a little girl beneath an enormous yellow sun.
Another showed a house with purple windows and a dog that resembled a lopsided horse.
But the third drawing made Dominic stop.
It showed two people standing in a kitchen.
The woman wore a yellow sweater.
Beside her was a tall man dressed entirely in black.
Dominic pointed toward the picture.
"Who's that?"
June looked up from her toast.
"That's Mommy when she was happy."
"And the man?"
June shrugged.
"Someone she used to love."
Elena moved quickly toward the refrigerator.
"June, sweetheart, why don't you show Uncle Peter your new puzzle?"
But June was still watching Dominic.
"Mommy said he went away."
Dominic could barely speak.
"Did she tell you why?"
"No."
June picked up her rabbit.
"But sometimes she looks at an old picture and gets sad."
She tilted her head.
"Do you know him?"
Dominic looked at the drawing again.
He recognized the kitchen, the yellow cardigan, and even the ridiculous black suit Fiona used to tease him about wearing on Sundays.
"Yes," he whispered.
June leaned closer.
"Was he nice?"
The question landed harder than any accusation Elena had made.
Dominic looked into his daughter's eyes.
"Sometimes," he said.
"But he hurt somebody who loved him."
June frowned.
"Then he should say sorry."
Dominic lowered his head.
"Yes, sweetheart."
"He should."
His phone vibrated inside his coat.
He ignored it until Elena quietly suggested that he step outside.
When he finally answered, his security director, Graham Pike, spoke urgently.
"Boss, we've got a problem."
Dominic's expression changed.
"What kind of problem?"
"The police pulled footage from a traffic camera near Fiona Ellis's crash."
Dominic gripped the phone.
"And?"
Graham hesitated.
"Someone contacted her less than ten minutes before the collision."
"Who?"
Another pause followed.
"The number belongs to a phone registered through one of our companies."
Dominic looked through the kitchen window.
Inside, June was laughing as Elena attempted to balance the stuffed rabbit on her head.
May you like
For five years, he had believed Fiona was safer because he had pushed her away.
Now a telephone belonging to his own organization had contacted her just before someone tried to kill her.
