Chapter 4 - The Fire Left One Thing Behind
Roman would not let Morgana go to the house.
She went anyway.
“You can stay in the SUV,” Roman said.
“No.”
“The fire department hasn't cleared it.”
“No.”
“Morgana.”
She turned toward him.
“That house contained everything my mother ever left me.”
Roman stared at her.
Then nodded.
“Stay beside Marco.”
The farmhouse looked smaller when it was burning.
Flames had already been contained by the time they arrived, but smoke poured through shattered windows. Half the kitchen roof had collapsed.
Neighbors watched from lawns.
Firefighters dragged hoses across dead grass.
Morgana stood in Roman's coat because she had forgotten hers.
A detective approached.
“Ms. Hale?”
“Yes.”
“Detective Erin Walker.”
The woman looked toward Roman.
Recognition passed through her expression.
“Costa.”
“Detective.”
No warmth.
No surprise either.
Walker returned her attention to Morgana.
“Your father isn’t inside.”
“You checked?”
“We checked what we safely could.”
“His car?”
“Gone.”
Morgana closed her eyes.
Jason had run.
Detective Walker said, “We found evidence the fire started in the kitchen.”
Roman asked, “Accidental?”
“Too early.”
Walker looked at him sharply.
“Don't investigate my fire scene.”
Roman’s mouth twitched.
“I would never.”
She stared.
“That's almost funny.”
Morgana walked toward the porch.
Marco followed.
The front steps were wet.
The door hung crooked.
A firefighter stopped her.
“You can't go inside yet.”
“I just need to know if something survived upstairs.”
“We’ll retrieve what we can.”
She looked toward the second-floor window.
Her bedroom.
Blackened.
The photograph of her mother had survived only because she packed it yesterday.
Then Morgana noticed something beneath the porch.
A metal corner.
She crouched.
“What are you doing?” Marco asked.
“There.”
He moved closer.
A small lockbox had been shoved behind a broken lattice panel.
Marco called Roman.
The detective protested.
But Walker eventually watched as a firefighter retrieved it.
The box was old.
Fire-resistant.
Heavy.
Morgana recognized it.
“My mother kept tax papers in that.”
Jason told her years earlier he had thrown it away.
Detective Walker opened it at the station two hours later.
Inside were financial documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
A cassette tape.
And a birth certificate.
Morgana stopped breathing when Walker slid it onto the table.
Name: Morgana Evelyn Hale.
Mother: Evelyn Marie Hale.
Father:
Blank.
Morgana looked at Roman.
He said nothing.
A sealed envelope rested beneath it.
EVELYN — PRIVATE.
Walker opened it with Morgana’s permission.
Inside was a laboratory report.
Old.
Faded.
Roman read the heading.
Paternity Probability.
He stopped.
Morgana could not.
“Tell me.”
Roman looked up.
“Salvatore Costa.”
Morgana's eyes filled.
“What percentage?”
“99.97.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Morgana laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
“My whole life...”
Roman sat beside her.
He did not touch her.
“My father was yours.”
Roman nodded.
“Which makes you...”
“My half-sister.”
Morgana covered her face.
Jason was not her father.
At least not biologically.
But somehow that made his betrayal worse.
He had chosen to raise her.
Chosen to call himself Dad.
Chosen to take her paychecks.
Chosen to hurt her.
Chosen to sell her.
Roman stared at the documents.
Then something changed in his expression.
He grabbed another page.
“What?”
Morgana asked.
Roman handed it to Walker.
A trust agreement.
Created by Salvatore Costa.
Beneficiary: Morgana Evelyn Hale.
Amount at creation: $2,000,000.
Current controlling interest included shares in three freight companies and a piece of commercial property outside Chicago.
Morgana stared.
“That can’t be real.”
Roman looked grim.
“It is.”
Walker asked, “Who administered the trust?”
Roman scanned the page.
His eyes hardened.
“Vincent Caruso.”
Morgana understood.
“That's what this is about.”
Roman nodded.
“Caruso wasn't watching Jason because of a forty-thousand-dollar gambling debt.”
“He was watching because Jason knew about the trust.”
“And if the trust still exists,” Walker said, “someone may have been stealing from it for twenty-two years.”
Roman called his attorney.
Within an hour they had preliminary records.
The trust had not vanished.
It had been drained.
Millions in assets.
Dividends.
Property transfers.
False management fees.
Morgana sat in stunned silence.
“How much?”
Roman's attorney answered through the speaker.
“Conservatively?”
“Yes.”
“About eleven million dollars.”
Morgana looked at Roman.
Roman’s face turned cold.
Not toward her.
Toward the invisible people who had stolen her life.
Detective Walker leaned forward.
“If Jason knew this, the fire may have been intended to destroy records.”
“And the cassette?” Morgana asked.
Everyone looked toward the old tape.
The station still had equipment capable of playing it.
Walker inserted the cassette.
Static filled the room.
Then a woman’s voice.
Morgana grabbed the edge of the table.
Her mother.
“If you are hearing this, I failed to get Morgana away.”
Morgana began crying silently.
Roman lowered his head.
Evelyn continued.
“Jason knows Salvatore is her father. Vincent Caruso knows too. They made an agreement. Jason receives money to keep Morgana hidden. Vincent controls the trust.”
Roman’s fists clenched.
The tape crackled.
“Roman, if you ever find this, do not punish Morgana for what your father did. Salvatore loved her. He wanted to acknowledge her. I was the one who was afraid.”
Morgana looked at Roman.
Tears stood in his eyes.
Her mother’s voice weakened.
“There is one more thing.”
Static.
Then:
“If Jason ever tries to trade Morgana to the Costas, it means Vincent has stopped paying him.”
The tape clicked off.
Nobody spoke.
Roman stared at the machine.
Morgana whispered, “He didn't sell me because he owed you.”
Roman looked at her.
“No.”
“He sold me because Caruso stopped paying him.”
Detective Walker nodded slowly.
“And by bringing you to Roman, Jason forced you back into the Costa family’s orbit.”
Morgana felt sick.
“Then Jason knew Roman might discover who I am.”
“Yes.”
Roman's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Jason spoke.
Roman put it on speaker.
“Morgana with you?”
Roman's voice became ice.
“Yes.”
Jason laughed nervously.
“Good.”
Morgana stood.
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“You burned the house.”
“That wasn't me.”
“Then who?”
Jason hesitated.
“Vincent.”
Roman leaned forward.
“What does he want?”
Jason exhaled.
“He wants Morgana to sign something.”
“What?”
“Her trust.”
Morgana looked at Roman.
Jason continued.
“And if she doesn't, he says he's going to tell her what really happened to Evelyn.”
Morgana's blood ran cold.
Roman spoke softly.
“What happened to her?”
Jason began crying.
But this time Morgana heard something beneath it.
Fear.
May you like
Real fear.
“She didn't die in an accident.”
