Chapter 6: The Empty Nursery
“Call Alessandro.””
Bianca shook her head.
Vittorio held out her phone.
“Now.””
“He won't answer.””
“Call him.””
Marcus stood beside the dining table, pale and silent.
Elena had moved closer to Lucy.
Emma remained near the stairs.
Bianca finally took the phone.
She dialed.
Speakerphone.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Voicemail.
Vittorio said, “Again.””
Nothing.
He pulled out his own phone and called his brother.
Straight to voicemail.
That frightened him more than an answer would have.
Alessandro always answered Vittorio.
Always.
Even at three in the morning.
Especially after Sofia died.
Vittorio looked at Emma.
“Take Lucy upstairs. Lock the bedroom door.””
Lucy grabbed his hand.
“No.””
“Sweetheart.””
“Don't send me away when you're scared.””
The sentence stopped him.
He crouched.
“I'm not scared.””
Lucy gave him the look only children could give adults when they knew they were lying.
“Yes, you are.””
Vittorio almost smiled.
Almost.
“I need to make sure you're safe.””
“Then come with me.””
He looked toward Bianca and Marcus.
Then Elena.
Elena said, “Go.””
Vittorio nodded.
“Emma, stay here. Elena, don't let either of them leave.””
Marcus laughed.
“With what authority?””
Elena picked up her phone.
“The authority of someone currently calling the police.””
Marcus stopped laughing.
Vittorio took Lucy upstairs.
She remained pressed against his side as they crossed the second-floor hallway.
“Daddy?””
“Yes?””
“Is Uncle Alessandro bad?””
Vittorio didn't know how to answer.
“I don't know yet.””
“He gave me a present.””
Vittorio stopped.
“When?””
“Yesterday.””
“What present?””
Lucy pointed toward her bedroom.
They entered.
Her room looked normal at first.
White curtains.
Books.
Stuffed animals.
A night-light shaped like a moon.
Then Lucy reached beneath her bed and pulled out a small red jewelry box.
“He told me not to show Bianca.””
Vittorio opened it.
Inside was a silver bracelet.
Nothing unusual.
Then he noticed the charm.
A tiny black rectangle.
He turned it over.
A small glass circle reflected the light.
A lens.
His stomach dropped.
“Lucy, did Uncle Alessandro put this bracelet anywhere else?””
“He said it was special.””
“Did he ask you to wear it?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“Everywhere.””
Vittorio immediately placed the bracelet inside a drawer and shut it.
“Did he give you anything else?””
Lucy thought.
“A bunny.””
“You already have Bunny.””
“A new one.””
“Where is it?””
“Bianca took it.””
“When?””
“This morning.””
“Why?””
“She said it was ugly.””
Vittorio walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Sofia's old nursery was across the hallway.
It had been locked for years.
Or it was supposed to be.
Tonight, the door stood slightly open.
Vittorio stared.
“Lucy, stay behind me.””
He crossed the hall.
The room smelled of dust and lavender.
Moonlight stretched across furniture covered in white sheets.
He hadn't entered since Sofia died.
He couldn't.
But someone else had.
A chair had been moved.
One sheet was crumpled.
A drawer stood open.
Lucy whispered, “Bianca comes in here.””
Vittorio turned.
“How do you know?””
“I saw her.””
“When?””
“Lots of times.””
“What was she doing?””
“Looking behind Mommy's pictures.””
Vittorio's heart began pounding.
Sofia had kept a framed photograph on the nursery shelf.
Their first picture with Lucy.
He pulled the sheet away.
The photograph was still there.
He lifted it.
Nothing.
Then he remembered something Sofia used to do.
Whenever she traveled, she hid emergency cash behind framed photographs.
He opened the backing.
A key fell into his palm.
Small.
Brass.
Lucy whispered, “What's that for?””
“I don't know.””
Then Vittorio saw a number scratched into it.
317.
He knew exactly what it meant.
Grand Central Storage.
Years earlier, Sofia had rented a private storage box there while their Manhattan apartment was being renovated.
Box 317.
He grabbed his phone.
No signal.
Strange.
He walked toward the window.
Still nothing.
Then the lights went out.
Lucy screamed.
Vittorio immediately picked her up.
“I'm here.””
The entire mansion had gone dark.
From downstairs came Emma's voice.
“Mr. DeLuca!””
A crash.
Then silence.
Vittorio carried Lucy into the hallway.
“Emma!””
No answer.
He used his phone flashlight.
Footsteps thundered below.
“Stay with me.””
They descended.
Halfway down, Vittorio saw the front door standing open.
Cold air swept through the hall.
Emma was kneeling beside Elena.
Elena had fallen near the console table.
“She's okay,” Emma said quickly.
“Someone shoved past us.””
Vittorio looked around.
“Bianca?””
“Gone.””
“Marcus?””
Emma pointed toward the kitchen.
Marcus emerged holding his bleeding lip.
“Don't look at me.””
“Where's Bianca?””
“I don't know.””
Vittorio looked at the table.
The laptop was gone.
So was the wooden box containing Sofia's letters.
Elena pushed herself upright.
“He took them.””
“Who?””
“I couldn't see his face.””
Marcus stared toward the doorway.
“I could.””
Everyone turned.
Marcus wiped blood from his mouth.
“It was Alessandro.””
Vittorio looked down at the brass key in his palm.
Marcus saw it.
His face changed.
“Where did you get that?””
“Why?””
Marcus backed away.
“That key was in Sofia's bag.””
Vittorio froze.
“You said you gave the bag to Alessandro.””
“I did.””
“Then how did this key end up inside Sofia's nursery?””
Marcus stared at him.
“I don't know.””
Vittorio stepped closer.
“Think.””
Marcus swallowed.
“The bag had two keys.””
“What was the other one?””
“I never knew.””
Elena suddenly looked toward the open front door.
“Vittorio.””
Headlights appeared beyond the windows.
A black sedan stopped outside.
Nobody got out.
Vittorio handed Lucy to Emma.
“Take her upstairs.””
This time Lucy obeyed.
Vittorio approached the entrance.
The sedan's rear door opened.
A man stepped onto the driveway.
Not Alessandro.
Charles Whitmore.
Alive.
Vittorio stared.
Charles walked toward the house with blood dried along his temple.
“You got my video.””
Vittorio's hand tightened around the key.
“Where is my brother?””
Charles stopped beneath the porch light.
“He took Bianca.””
“Why?””
“Because she knows where Sofia hid the original evidence.””
Vittorio showed him the brass key.
Charles went pale.
“Where did you find that?””
“In Sofia's nursery.””
Charles looked back toward the road.
“We have to leave.””
“For Box 317?””
“No.””
Charles stared at the number.
“That isn't a storage-box number.””
Vittorio's pulse quickened.
“Then what is it?””
May you like
Charles lowered his voice.
“It's the room number where Sofia met Alessandro the night before she died.””
