Chapter 1 - THE NAME HE WHISPERED OVER A BOWL OF STEW
“Rosa.”
The name left Gabriel Hayes's mouth so quietly that I almost missed it.
His spoon stopped halfway between the bowl and his lips.
For one strange second, the entire diner seemed to hold its breath.
I stared at him.
“What did you say?”
Gabriel looked up.
His gray eyes were no longer cold.
They were filled with something I hadn't expected to see on the face of the most feared man in the city.
Grief.
“Who taught you to make this?”
I glanced toward Benny.
My boss stood beside the kitchen door, looking as though he was considering writing his will.
“A woman who used to look after me.”
“What was her name?”
I swallowed.
“Rosa.”
Gabriel's hand tightened around the spoon.
“Rosa what?”
“Rosa Moretti.”
His face went completely white.
Leo stepped closer.
“Boss?”
Gabriel didn't answer.
He stared at me as though I'd just announced that someone had returned from the dead.
“Where did you meet her?”
I frowned.
“She lived in my apartment building when I was little.”
“Which building?”
“Fourteen Mercer Street.”
Gabriel slowly set down his spoon.
The sound against the ceramic bowl seemed unusually loud.
“Apartment 4B?”
My stomach tightened.
“Yes.”
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Gabriel looked toward Leo.
“Get me everything you can find about Rosa Moretti.”
I stepped backward.
“Wait.”
Gabriel turned.
“What?”
“Why are you investigating her?”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then said something that made my heart stop.
“Because Rosa Moretti was my mother.”
I stared.
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“What?”
“Rosa wasn't your mother.”
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
“How would you know?”
I swallowed.
“Because she talked about her son.”
His face changed.
“She did?”
I nodded.
“She said he died when he was sixteen.”
The diner went silent.
Gabriel slowly stood.
His chair scraped against the floor.
“Sixteen?”
I nodded again.
“His name was Gabriel.”
For several seconds, he seemed unable to breathe.
Then he whispered, “They told her I was dead.”
I stared.
“Who?”
He looked toward the rain-darkened windows.
“My father.”
I felt cold.
Gabriel continued.
“My father told me Rosa abandoned me.”
The words hung between us.
Two people.
Two different stories.
And a woman who had apparently spent years grieving a son who was still alive.
Then Leo's phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
His expression changed.
“Boss.”
Gabriel turned.
“What?”
Leo swallowed.
“We found Rosa Moretti's death certificate.”
Gabriel's face drained.
I felt my knees weaken.
Rosa.
The woman who taught me to cook.
The woman who held me when my mother worked double shifts.
The woman who smelled like cinnamon and lavender.
“When?” I whispered.
Leo looked toward me.
“Seven years ago.”
I closed my eyes.
Then Leo added something that made Gabriel go completely still.
“The physician who signed her death certificate was the same doctor who treated Paulie after the poisoning.”
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And beneath the physician's name was a handwritten notation.
CAUSE OF DEATH: SUSPECTED TOXIC EXPOSURE.
