Chapter 10 - THE MAN WHO SIGNED THE ORDER|
"Who ordered the fire?"
Adrian's voice was so quiet that I almost didn't hear him.
Evelyn Cross sat across from us, gripping the sealed envelope.
Her hands trembled.
For twenty-six years, she'd carried a secret that had destroyed our family.
And now she was afraid to say it aloud.
"Please," I whispered.
She looked at me.
"My mother is gone."
My throat tightened.
"Whatever you're protecting, she can't defend herself anymore."
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Then slowly opened the envelope.
Inside was a photocopy of an old payment authorization.
The paper was yellowed.
Several sections had been typed.
Others were handwritten.
Katherine leaned forward.
"May I?"
Evelyn nodded.
The attorney examined the page.
Then frowned.
"This appears to authorize payment to a contractor."
Adrian looked closer.
"What contractor?"
Evelyn swallowed.
"A man named Paul Serrano."
Katherine read the document carefully.
"The description says emergency maintenance."
Adrian stared at it.
"On the night of the fire?"
Evelyn nodded.
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Who signed it?"
She pointed toward the bottom.
There was a signature.
Richard Hale.
My breath caught.
"The attorney?"
Evelyn nodded.
Adrian slowly shook his head.
"No."
His expression changed from disbelief to anger.
"Richard was my father's closest legal advisor."
Evelyn looked down.
"Yes."
"And Matteo?"
She swallowed.
"He handled what happened afterward."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Katherine carefully placed the document inside a protective sleeve.
"We need to verify this."
Evelyn nodded.
"Of course."
Adrian looked toward her.
"How did you get it?"
She took a shaky breath.
"Paul Serrano gave it to me."
My heart pounded.
"Why?"
"Because he was frightened."
Evelyn continued.
"He said he'd been hired to create a small electrical fire in an empty service room."
Adrian went still.
"But the fire spread."
She nodded.
"And the nursery was occupied."
I pressed a hand against my mouth.
Evelyn's voice trembled.
"Paul said he never intended to hurt the children."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"Then he should have told the authorities."
"He tried."
Evelyn wiped her tears.
"Richard warned him that nobody would believe him."
I stared at her.
"Where is Paul now?"
She looked down.
"He died seven years ago."
For a moment, I felt hope slipping away.
Another dead witness.
Another secret left behind.
But Evelyn wasn't finished.
"He gave me something else."
She reached beneath her chair.
Then lifted a small metal box.
"I kept this in a bank safe-deposit box for years."
Katherine leaned forward.
"What is it?"
Evelyn opened the lid.
Inside were several documents.
A photograph.
A letter.
And a small digital storage device.
Adrian stared at it.
"What's on that?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"I don't know."
She looked toward Katherine.
"Paul said it contained copies of records he didn't trust himself to keep."
The attorney nodded.
"We'll have it examined."
I looked toward Evelyn.
"Why didn't you give this to the police?"
She closed her eyes.
"Because I was afraid."
I swallowed.
"Of Richard?"
She nodded.
"And Matteo."
My anger returned.
"For twenty-six years?"
Evelyn looked at me.
Her eyes filled.
"Yes."
I wanted to shout.
To ask her how she could sleep knowing our family had been torn apart.
To demand why she'd valued her safety above my mother's life.
But then I looked at her shaking hands.
And I realized the truth was more complicated than the revenge stories people liked to tell.
She had made a terrible choice.
Then another.
And another.
Until fear had become the shape of her entire life.
Adrian stood.
"Evelyn."
She looked up.
"I don't know whether I can forgive you."
Her face crumpled.
"I understand."
"But thank you for telling us now."
She began crying.
Katherine carefully organized the documents.
Then asked Evelyn whether she would provide a formal statement.
She agreed.
Before we left, Evelyn reached for my hand.
I hesitated.
Then allowed her to hold it.
"Elena."
I looked at her.
"Yes?"
"Your mother loved you more than anything."
My eyes filled.
"I know."
Evelyn swallowed.
"And she never forgot Adrian."
I looked toward my brother.
He was standing near the window, staring into the garden.
"I know that now, too."
On the drive back to Chicago, none of us spoke for nearly an hour.
Finally, Adrian broke the silence.
"I used to call Richard Uncle Richard."
I looked at him.
"He was there when I learned to ride a bike."
His voice cracked.
"He taught me how to negotiate my first business contract."
He laughed bitterly.
"And all that time, he may have ordered the fire that destroyed our family."
I reached for his hand.
He took it.
For several moments, we sat quietly.
Then I asked, "What will you do?"
He looked toward me.
"Find the truth."
I swallowed.
"And after that?"
He took a slow breath.
"Let the law deal with whoever is responsible."
I stared at him.
He gave a sad smile.
"I know what people say about my family."
I looked down.
"Adrian—"
"But I don't want Sophie growing up believing power means you can hurt people whenever you're angry."
My throat tightened.
He looked toward the road.
"And I don't want you to spend the rest of your life afraid of what your brother might do."
For the first time that day, I smiled.
"Thank you."
He nodded.
When we returned to the mansion, Sophie came running toward us.
"Mommy!"
I knelt.
She threw herself into my arms.
I hugged her tightly.
Behind her, Mrs. Carter smiled.
"Someone has been waiting for you."
Sophie pulled back.
"Uncle Adrian!"
Adrian froze.
I looked up.
My daughter was smiling at him.
He slowly crouched.
"What did you call me?"
Sophie giggled.
"Uncle Adrian."
His eyes filled.
I held my breath.
We hadn't received the DNA results yet.
I'd explained that Adrian might be family.
Nothing more.
But Sophie had apparently decided she liked the sound of the word.
Adrian opened his arms.
"Would you like a hug?"
She nodded.
Then ran into them.
He held her carefully.
Like someone afraid a beautiful dream might disappear if he moved too quickly.
I watched him close his eyes.
For a moment, I saw the eight-year-old boy he'd once been.
The one who'd carried his baby sister through smoke.
The one who'd believed he'd lost his mother.
The one who'd grown into a powerful man without knowing the family he longed for was still alive.
Sophie leaned back.
"Uncle Adrian?"
He smiled through his tears.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Can you come to my birthday?"
His expression changed.
"When is it?"
"Next month."
He looked toward me.
I nodded.
He smiled.
"I wouldn't miss it."
She grinned.
"Good."
Then she whispered something that made him laugh.
"You can sit in a chair."
I covered my mouth.
For a moment, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Adrian looked toward me.
His eyes filled again.
"Thank you, Sophie."
My daughter smiled.
"You're welcome."
That evening, Katherine called.
The digital device had been sent to a forensic specialist.
The documents were being reviewed.
And the old payment authorization appeared to contain information that investigators could compare with surviving business records.
But there was another development.
Richard Hale had suddenly left Chicago.
His office claimed he was on vacation.
His phone went straight to voicemail.
And Matteo Rinaldi had canceled several appointments.
Adrian listened quietly.
Then asked Katherine to preserve all relevant records and coordinate with the authorities.
When the call ended, he looked toward me.
"Elena, there may be difficult days ahead."
I nodded.
"I know."
He hesitated.
"I want you and Sophie to have options."
"What kind?"
"A safe place to stay outside the mansion."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"You want us to leave?"
He shook his head immediately.
"No."
His expression softened.
"I want you to know you can."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I nodded.
"Thank you."
He smiled.
"We'll figure it out."
The following morning, an officer contacted Katherine with news.
They had located Paul Serrano's former business partner.
He was willing to answer questions.
And he remembered the night of the nursery fire.
According to his initial account, Paul had been paid to start a fire.
But he'd received one additional instruction.
A handwritten note.
Something he had refused to carry out.
Katherine read the wording to us over the phone.
My blood ran cold.
The instruction said:
MAKE SURE THE LITTLE GIRL DOESN'T LEAVE THE HOUSE.
Adrian stopped moving.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he looked toward me.
His voice cracked.
"Elena."
I couldn't answer.
He took my hand.
And for the first time, I understood something my mother had probably known for twenty-six years.
May you like
The fire hadn't simply destroyed our family by accident.
Someone had specifically wanted me gone.
