Chapter 3 - THE SISTER WHO NEVER DIED
"My sister died twenty-two years ago."
Penelope could barely hear her own voice.
Dominic placed the photograph on the kitchen table.
"Then why was her name written on a recent hospital record?"
Lorenzo checked his phone.
"I've identified the facility. Saint Catherine's Medical Center. Private wing."
Penelope grabbed her purse.
"Then we're going."
Dominic stepped in front of her.
"Not until we know who's waiting there."
"That's my sister!"
He softened his voice.
"And that's why we're not rushing into a trap."
Penelope looked at him with tears in her eyes.
"You don't get to decide what happens to my family."
Dominic stepped aside.
"You're right."
For a moment, she didn't know what to say.
Then he added, "But if you want my help, let me make sure you get there safely."
Twenty minutes later, they were driving through Chicago in a black SUV.
The rain had intensified.
Penelope stared at the butterfly necklace resting against her crimson dress.
"Why did you help my father's bakery?"
Dominic glanced at her.
"Because your father once saved someone important to me."
"Who?"
"My mother."
Penelope turned toward him.
"You knew my family before we met?"
Dominic nodded.
"I knew your name. I didn't know you."
"And you never told me?"
"I thought bringing the past into your life would put you in danger."
She looked away.
"Apparently the past found me anyway."
At Saint Catherine's, Lorenzo arranged a meeting with a night supervisor.
The woman appeared nervous when Penelope mentioned Amelia Russo.
"That patient isn't listed here."
Dominic placed the photograph on the counter.
"Then explain this."
The supervisor's eyes widened.
She quietly closed the office door.
"Miss Russo, your sister was admitted under another name."
Penelope gripped the edge of the desk.
"She's alive?"
"She was transferred yesterday."
"Where?"
The supervisor hesitated.
"An assisted-living property outside the city."
Dominic leaned forward.
"Who authorized the transfer?"
The woman looked terrified.
"A man claiming to be her legal guardian."
Penelope whispered, "My father?"
The supervisor shook her head.
"No. Your father's name wasn't on the paperwork."
"Then whose was?"
She turned the monitor.
A familiar face appeared on the screen.
Penelope recognized him immediately.
It was Anthony Russo.
Her uncle.
The same uncle who had handled her mother's funeral.
May you like
The same man who had recently offered to buy her father's bakery.
And the man Dominic had once accused of ordering his mother's murder.
