Chapter 3 - THE MAN BEHIND THE GLASS
The hospital room was filled with machines that beeped softly beside my bed.
Dr. Bennett had arranged for an independent medical team to evaluate me.
They were monitoring my symptoms while a toxicology laboratory analyzed the capsules.
But all I could think about was my father.
Alive.
Somewhere in New York.
I had spent nine years mourning him.
Now every memory of his funeral felt like a cruel joke.
Matteo sat beside the window.
His black jacket was folded across a chair.
His sleeves were rolled up.
And for the first time, I noticed how exhausted he looked.
“Why is my father in a facility owned by your family?”
He didn't answer immediately.
“I'm trying to find out.”
“Did you know?”
His eyes met mine.
“No.”
I wanted to believe him.
But the letter wouldn't leave my mind.
Do not tell Matteo Marino what you saw behind the red door.
I looked away.
Matteo noticed.
“You're frightened of me.”
I swallowed.
“I'm frightened of everything.”
He nodded slowly.
“That's fair.”
Then he stood.
“I'll have someone bring you whatever you need. You won't lose your job.”
I stared at him.
“Matteo?”
He stopped.
“Yes?”
“Why are you helping me?”
His expression softened.
“Because someone hurt you under my roof.”
“That can't be the only reason.”
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he looked toward the floor.
“My mother died because someone tampered with her medication.”
My breath caught.
“I didn't know.”
“It happened eleven years ago.”
His voice became distant.
“Everyone called it an accident.”
I stared at him.
“And you didn't believe them?”
“No.”
He looked directly at me.
“Not for one day.”
Before I could respond, Luca entered carrying a tablet.
“Boss, we found the facility's records.”
Matteo turned.
“And?”
“The patient was registered under the name Thomas Reed.”
My heart raced.
“My father's name was Daniel Parker.”
Luca nodded.
“We believe the identity was changed.”
He turned the tablet toward me.
A photograph appeared.
An older man sat beside a window.
His dark hair had turned gray.
His face was thinner.
But his eyes—
“Oh, God.”
I covered my mouth.
“Daddy.”
Matteo stepped closer.
Luca continued.
“The facility claims he was transferred yesterday.”
My heart dropped.
“Transferred where?”
“Unknown.”
I began shaking.
Matteo's expression hardened.
Then Luca opened another file.
“There is one more thing.”
A photograph appeared.
My father was standing beside a woman in an elegant white dress.
She looked beautiful.
Familiar.
Matteo stopped breathing.
“Mom?”
I stared at him.
The woman was his mother.
May you like
And the photograph had been taken eighteen months after the date on her death certificate.
Someone had faked the deaths of both our parents.
