Chapter 7 - The Daughter Nobody ClaimedClara laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because sometimes the mind rejected pain by turning it into disbelief.
“That’s impossible.”
Adriano did not move.
“My father died when I was six.”
“I know what Evelyn told you.”
“She showed me pictures.”
“Yes.”
“Thomas Reeves was my father.”
“He raised you.”
Clara’s eyes burned.
“No.”
Adriano came closer.
“Clara—”
“No.”
She stepped back.
“You don’t get to take that from me too.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“My mother lied?”
“She may have been protecting you.”
“Everyone keeps calling lies protection.”
Her voice broke.
“I am tired of being protected by dead people.”
Adriano said nothing.
Clara turned toward the window.
Rain streaked the glass.
“What proof did your father have?”
“He didn’t.”
She spun around.
“Then why tell me?”
“Because Margaret knows.”
Clara froze.
“Knows what?”
“That Vittorio suspected you were his.”
“What did your mother think?”
Adriano’s jaw tightened.
“She knew about Evelyn.”
“Did she hate her?”
“No.”
That surprised Clara.
“My mother, Sofia, married my father for family reasons. Affection came later. Their marriage was complicated.”
“Was he still seeing Evelyn?”
“No.”
“When did it happen?”
“Before he married Sofia.”
Clara calculated.
She was thirty.
Adriano thirty-four.
“Then I was born after you.”
“Yes.”
Clara’s stomach twisted.
“Did your father cheat on your mother?”
“I don’t know the exact timing.”
“What a convenient answer.”
“Clara.”
She pressed both hands against her face.
Memories shifted.
Her mother refusing to discuss Clara’s father.
Photographs that showed a cheerful young man holding baby Clara.
Thomas Reeves dying when Clara was six.
Had he known?
“Did Thomas know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“It is better than inventing answers.”
She looked at him.
“Did Vittorio ever speak to me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“You were six.”
Clara’s breath caught.
“You came here once with Evelyn.”
A memory moved faintly.
A large garden.
Stone lions.
A dark-haired boy on steps.
Clara stared at Adriano.
“I remember a fountain.”
His expression softened.
“There was one behind the old greenhouse.”
“And a dog.”
“Brutus.”
Clara pressed a hand to her mouth.
The memory had always felt like a dream.
“You were there.”
“I remember you throwing bread into the fountain and insisting fish could eat sandwiches.”
Despite everything, she laughed once.
Tears filled her eyes.
Adriano continued quietly.
“You told me my shoes looked stupid.”
Clara looked down.
“Apparently my judgment developed early.”
He almost smiled.
The tenderness vanished when she remembered Margaret.
“Why would this matter to her?”
“Because if Vittorio recognized you legally, you might have inherited.”
“I’m a housekeeper.”
“You might also be a Salvatore.”
Clara shook her head.
“No.”
“We can test it.”
She stared at him.
A DNA test could reduce thirty years of identity to a percentage.
She hated the thought.
But not knowing suddenly felt worse.
“Do it.”
Adriano nodded.
“I can arrange—”
“No private laboratories you own.”
“I don’t own laboratories.”
“You probably know people who own laboratories.”
“That is possible.”
Despite herself, Clara smiled.
Then Nathan entered.
His face was grave.
“Police identified the shooter.”
Adriano turned.
“Who?”
“Name is Leon Burke. Former security contractor.”
“Employer?”
Nathan handed him a tablet.
“Callaway Hospitality Group.”
Clara exhaled.
“That’s enough.”
Adriano shook his head.
“No. Margaret will say he was fired.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“Convenient.”
Nathan continued.
“There’s more.”
He displayed a photograph.
Leon Burke standing beside another man outside a hotel conference room.
The second man wore a dark suit.
Clara recognized him.
“Warren.”
“Two weeks ago,” Nathan said.
Adriano’s face darkened.
“Send this to Daniel.”
Nathan nodded.
A phone rang.
Clara’s.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a woman’s voice.
“Is this Clara Reeves?”
Her heart pounded.
“Yes.”
“My name is Rosa Alvarez.”
Clara grabbed the desk.
Adriano heard.
He moved closer.
Rosa continued.
“I knew your mother.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t say.”
“Are you safe?”
A pause.
“For the moment.”
“What happened eight years ago?”
Rosa began crying quietly.
“Your mother saved my life.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“I know some of it.”
“No.”
Rosa’s voice became urgent.
“You know what they recorded. You don’t know what happened after.”
“What happened?”
“Margaret found Evelyn two days before the crash.”
Clara stopped breathing.
“Where?”
“At her apartment.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothing.”
Rosa inhaled shakily.
“Warren did.”
Clara gripped the phone.
“What?”
“I was there.”
“How?”
“Evelyn asked me to come back.”
“Why?”
“To testify.”
Clara’s heart raced.
“She wanted us to go to federal investigators together.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because Warren came first.”
Clara felt cold.
“What did he do?”
“He threatened you.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“He told Evelyn that accidents happened to daughters too.”
Adriano’s face became stone.
Rosa continued.
“Your mother agreed to give him the necklace.”
“But she didn’t.”
“No.”
“What did she give him?”
“A fake.”
Clara almost smiled through tears.
That sounded like Evelyn.
“What happened after?”
“Warren left.”
“And two days later?”
Rosa began sobbing.
“I followed her car.”
Clara’s knees weakened.
Adriano supported her elbow.
“I saw the crash.”
Clara whispered, “Did someone hit her?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Rosa tried to answer.
A loud bang sounded through the phone.
Then a gasp.
“Rosa?”
No answer.
“Rosa!”
A man’s voice appeared faintly in the background.
The call ended.
Clara stared at the screen.
Adriano was already dialing security.
“Trace it.”
Nathan moved.
Clara grabbed Adriano’s sleeve.
“She found me because she wanted to help.”
“We’ll find her.”
“What if they already did?”
His eyes locked with hers.
“Then we move faster.”
Ten minutes later, Nathan returned.
“The call routed through three numbers.”
“Location?”
“Last signal came from Boston.”
Clara looked at Adriano.
“Drive.”
“What?”
“Boston is ninety minutes away.”
“We don’t know where.”
“Daniel might.”
Adriano stared at her.
“You’re not coming.”
Clara grabbed her coat.
“You should have learned by now that doesn’t work.”
Nathan almost smiled.
Adriano did not.
But he picked up his keys.
Forty minutes later, racing north through the rain, Daniel called.
“I found the building.”
Adriano activated speakerphone.
“Address?”
Daniel gave it.
Then he added something that turned Clara’s blood cold.
“Police already received a report.”
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“What report?”
“A woman fell from the fifth floor.”
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