Chapter 5 - The Man in the Hospital Photograph|
I stared at Elizabeth's message until the words blurred.
My father wasn't dead.
I had stood beside his hospital bed.
I had held his hand.
I had watched the nurses disconnect the machines.
I had seen his coffin lowered into the ground.
There was no possible way he could be alive.
Unless everything I remembered had been arranged.
My phone rang.
Elizabeth.
I answered before I could change my mind.
"Where is he?"
Her voice was gentle.
"Mia, sweetheart, you're upset."
"Don't call me sweetheart."
A pause.
"I understand you're frightened."
"I'm not frightened. I'm angry."
Elizabeth sighed.
"You're surrounded by dangerous men."
I looked toward the estate.
Dominic stood on the front steps, watching me.
Even from a distance, I could see the tension in his shoulders.
"Then tell me why you sent Dominic to my gallery."
Silence.
Elizabeth finally spoke.
"Because I wanted someone to keep you safe."
"By lying to me?"
"Sometimes protection requires difficult decisions."
I laughed bitterly.
"Everyone in my life seems to believe that."
"Mia, listen carefully. Your father discovered something about the Russo family. He was going to expose it."
"What happened to him?"
"He disappeared."
I closed my eyes.
"No."
"The hospital records were falsified."
"Stop."
"The man you buried wasn't Michael Harrison."
My knees weakened.
I grabbed the railing beside the driveway.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying your father may still be alive."
Tears filled my eyes.
"Prove it."
Elizabeth hesitated.
Then my phone buzzed.
A photograph arrived.
It showed a man sitting beside a hospital window.
His hair was silver.
His shoulders were thinner.
But I recognized his face.
Michael Harrison.
My father.
I stared at the image.
On the bedside table sat a wooden chess set.
The same one we'd used every Sunday when I was a child.
My breath caught.
"Where was this taken?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Elizabeth."
"I can't tell you over the phone."
"Then I'm coming to you."
"No."
The urgency in her voice startled me.
"Not yet."
I looked back toward Dominic.
"Why?"
"Because the Russo brothers are not telling you everything."
I swallowed.
"About my father?"
"About themselves."
The call ended.
I stood motionless.
Then Dominic approached.
"Mia?"
I turned the phone toward him.
He stared at the photograph.
His expression changed.
"Where did you get that?"
"Elizabeth."
He looked closer.
Then he whispered something under his breath.
"What?"
Dominic shook his head.
"That photograph was taken at St. Catherine's Medical Center."
I frowned.
"How do you know?"
He pointed to the window.
"The building across the courtyard. My family helped fund that hospital."
My heart raced.
"Then take me there."
"Mia—"
"Don't."
He looked at me.
"I know you don't trust me."
"That's an understatement."
"But someone may be using your father to lure you into a trap."
I stared.
"Or you may be trying to keep me from finding him."
The accusation hurt him.
I could see it.
But he didn't deny that he had earned my distrust.
"You're right to question me," he said quietly.
I looked away.
That was new.
Dominic Russo admitting I had a reason not to trust him.
Then he spoke again.
"Let Gabriel arrange independent security. I'll stay away if that's what you want."
I studied him.
"You'd do that?"
"Yes."
"Even if it means I leave you?"
His expression tightened.
Then he nodded.
"Even then."
For a moment, the world went very quiet.
I wanted to reach for him.
I wanted to believe this was the beginning of something different.
But love had already convinced me to overlook too much.
So I stepped back.
"Then give me space."
Dominic lowered his head.
"I will."
Two hours later, I arrived at St. Catherine's with Gabriel and an attorney named Rebecca Shaw.
We entered through the main lobby.
Rebecca had arranged a meeting with the hospital administrator.
I showed him the photograph.
He examined it carefully.
Then his expression changed.
"Where did you get this?"
"Does the patient look familiar?"
The administrator hesitated.
"We can't disclose patient information without authorization."
Rebecca presented the appropriate legal paperwork.
The man reviewed it.
Then he stood.
"Please wait here."
Twenty minutes passed.
Then thirty.
Finally, he returned carrying a sealed envelope.
"This patient was transferred last night."
My stomach dropped.
"Transferred where?"
"We're still verifying the authorization."
Rebecca frowned.
"What do you mean?"
The administrator looked uncomfortable.
"The transfer request was submitted by a woman claiming to be his legal guardian."
"Who?"
He hesitated.
Then he looked directly at me.
"Elizabeth Monroe."
I felt cold.
"Where did she take him?"
Before he could answer, the office door opened.
A nurse stepped inside.
"Doctor, there's someone in the lobby asking for Miss Harrison."
I stood.
"Who?"
The nurse looked nervous.
"An older gentleman."
My heart stopped.
"What gentleman?"
"He said his name is Michael Harrison."
I ran.
Down the hallway.
Past the elevators.
Toward the lobby.
And there, standing beside the reception desk, was a man holding a wooden chess piece.
A white queen.
My father's favorite.
He turned when he heard my footsteps.
His eyes filled with tears.
"Mia?"
I stopped breathing.
"Dad?"
He opened his arms.
I ran toward him.
May you like
But before I reached him, he spoke six words that made me stop in my tracks.
"Don't trust Dominic. He's my son."
