Chapter 6 - THE VOICE FROM THE GRAVE
Dominic looked at the phone as though it were a loaded weapon.
“Father?”
The man chuckled.
“It's been a long time.”
I sat motionless.
The voice was calm, almost affectionate.
That made it worse.
“Where are you?” Dominic demanded.
“Still asking the wrong questions.”
“You staged your death.”
“I did what was necessary.”
“For what?”
“To protect the family.”
Dominic laughed once.
“You abandoned it.”
“Careful, son.”
I saw Dominic's jaw tighten.
Then the voice changed.
“Is Emily Carter there?”
My blood froze.
Dominic looked at me.
“No.”
“Don't insult me.”
A pause.
“Hello, Emily.”
I couldn't speak.
“I knew your mother.”
My fingers curled around the armrest.
“You had her killed.”
Dominic looked at me sharply.
The man sighed.
“Margaret always did have a talent for raising difficult women.”
“Don't say her name.”
“Such spirit.”
Dominic stepped closer to the phone.
“If you threaten her again—”
“You'll do what, Dominic? Kill your own father?”
Silence.
Then Vittorio said something that made my heart stumble.
“Ask Emily what happened on October seventeenth, seven years ago.”
I frowned.
“That was the day before my mother's accident.”
“Exactly.”
Dominic watched me.
“What happened?”
I searched my memory.
That evening had been ordinary.
Rain against the kitchen window.
My mother cooking spaghetti.
A knock at the door.
I remembered a man in a dark coat.
My mother had sent me upstairs.
I had heard arguing.
Then something breaking.
And afterward, my mother had come into my bedroom crying.
She'd hugged me tightly.
Whatever happens, Emily, remember that good people sometimes make terrible choices to protect the ones they love.
I hadn't understood.
Now I wondered whether I ever truly knew her.
Vittorio spoke again.
“Your mother stole evidence that could destroy everything I built.”
“Then why didn't you take it from her?” Dominic asked.
“Because she was clever.”
His voice sharpened.
“She made copies.”
Dominic looked at the memory card on his desk.
“How many?”
Vittorio laughed.
“Enough.”
Then he addressed me.
“Emily, I want what's inside that necklace.”
“No.”
“You don't understand what you're holding.”
“Then explain it.”
A long pause.
“Your mother didn't just expose financial crimes.”
My stomach tightened.
“She discovered who was responsible for the deaths of eleven innocent people.”
Dominic went still.
“What eleven people?”
Vittorio ignored him.
“Give me the card, Emily, and you'll walk away.”
“And if I don't?”
The answer came softly.
“Then you'll discover why your mother never made it home.”
The call ended.
Dominic immediately dialed Victor.
“Trace that number.”
Then he turned to me.
“Emily, look at me.”
I raised my eyes.
“Whatever is on that card, we're going to uncover it.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother deserves the truth.”
I studied him.
“And what happens if the truth destroys your family?”
He held my gaze.
“Then it deserves to be destroyed.”
At that moment, the computer chimed.
The memory card had finished loading.
One folder appeared.
Its title was simple.
THE ELEVEN.
May you like
Dominic clicked it.
And the first photograph showed eleven children standing outside a burning warehouse.
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