Chapter 3 - THE MOTHER WHO KNEW THE MAFIA BOSS
My mother had never looked afraid of anyone.
Not the landlord.
Not the debt collectors.
Not the insurance representative who suggested she should consider a cheaper treatment.
But when that man spoke Adrian Cain's name through our apartment door, her entire body began shaking.
"Hannah, call the police."
I didn't argue.
I dialed 911 and quietly explained that strangers were threatening us.
Outside, the man knocked again.
"Mrs. Ellis, we're not here to hurt you."
Mom signed something with trembling hands.
She'd taught me a few signs when I was little, back when she worked with patients who had difficulty speaking.
Do not answer.
I nodded.
The man outside tried again.
"Coraline Vane only wants a conversation."
Mom covered her mouth.
I looked at her.
"You know Coraline?"
She shook her head.
"Not personally."
"Then why is she sending men here?"
Mom's eyes filled.
"Because of something I saw nineteen years ago."
Before she could explain, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Someone shouted.
Then silence.
A different voice spoke through the door.
"Mrs. Ellis, this is Samuel Bishop. The men have left. Please keep your door locked until the police arrive."
I looked at Mom.
"Who is Samuel Bishop?"
Her eyes widened.
"Adrian's adviser."
The police arrived minutes later.
We gave statements.
The strangers were gone.
Samuel had remained downstairs long enough to identify himself and provide the officers with the information he had.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the look on Mom's face.
After the officers left, I sat across from her.
"No more secrets."
She looked down.
"Hannah—"
"Please."
For a long time, she said nothing.
Then she opened the bottom drawer of our kitchen cabinet.
Inside was an old yellow envelope.
The paper had softened with age.
Across the front were two words.
CAIN FOUNDATION.
I stared.
"What's that?"
Mom placed it between us.
"When you were seven, I worked at St. Gabriel's Medical Center."
I nodded.
"I remember."
"The hospital received money from a private charity."
"The Cain Foundation?"
"Yes."
She took a shaky breath.
"I discovered that some of the money wasn't reaching the patients."
I frowned.
"How much?"
"Millions."
My stomach tightened.
"What happened?"
"I tried to report it."
"To whom?"
"An investigator named Daniel Mercer."
The name was unfamiliar.
Mom continued.
"He disappeared before we could deliver the evidence."
I stared.
"Was he killed?"
"I never found out."
She reached inside the envelope.
A photograph appeared.
Three men stood outside a hospital.
One was older, broad-shouldered, and wore a dark suit.
Another was younger.
The third looked like a doctor.
Mom pointed to the older man.
"Vincent Cain. Adrian's father."
Then she pointed toward the younger man.
My breath caught.
He was familiar.
Very familiar.
The same sharp eyes.
The same scar through his eyebrow.
But it wasn't Adrian.
"Who is that?"
Mom whispered, "His younger brother."
I stared.
"Adrian has a brother?"
Mom nodded.
"His name is Julian Cain."
I studied the photograph.
"Where is he now?"
Mom's eyes filled.
"He disappeared nineteen years ago."
May you like
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
"Because I helped him escape."
