Chapter 4 - THEY CAME FOR ME INSTEAD
By noon, I had convinced myself I was wrong.
By two, I had convinced myself I was right.
By four, somebody tried to burn down my apartment.
I was at Dante’s estate when Mrs. Alvarez called.
“Mara!”
Her voice was frantic.
“What happened?”
“Fire!”
I stood.
“Where?”
“Your building.”
My blood went cold.
Dante saw my face.
“What?”
“My apartment.”
We were in the SUV within ninety seconds.
Nico argued.
Dante ignored him.
Gray smoke was visible three blocks away.
Firefighters crowded my street.
My landlord screamed beside a police cruiser.
Mrs. Alvarez stood wrapped in a blanket.
I jumped from the car before it stopped.
“Mara!”
She grabbed me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Your place—”
“I see it.”
The first floor windows were black.
My kitchen.
My clinic.
Everything I had left after losing everything else.
Gone.
A firefighter approached.
“You live downstairs?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone inside?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Cause?”
“Too early.”
He looked past me toward Dante.
Then toward the vehicles.
His expression changed.
People knew that face.
Or the name attached to it.
Dante stayed back.
He let me have the scene.
I appreciated that.
Until a firefighter carried out my metal lockbox.
Charred.
Bent.
But intact.
I opened it.
My medical school diploma.
My mother’s necklace.
Patient records.
Then I noticed something.
A piece of paper.
White.
Untouched.
Placed after the fire started.
Four words.
YOU SAVED THE WRONG MAN.
Dante read over my shoulder.
His face became frighteningly empty.
Nico said, “We’re leaving.”
This time, I did not argue.
Back at the estate, Dante disappeared into his study.
I cleaned soot from my hands.
Everything I owned smelled burned.
An hour later, he returned.
“We found the accelerant container.”
“And?”
“Print.”
“Whose?”
“Ethan Rowe.”
I stared.
“That’s too easy.”
“Yes.”
The same thought.
Again.
Someone wanted Ethan blamed.
Or Ethan wanted us to think someone wanted him blamed.
Layers inside layers.
“Call him.”
Dante looked at me.
“What?”
“Ethan.”
“You have his number?”
“I had eighteen months to delete it.”
I dialed.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Mara?”
His voice did something terrible to me.
For one second, I was back in trauma bay four.
He was beside me.
We were colleagues.
Friends.
Maybe family in the way hospital people become family.
“Ethan.”
Silence.
Then:
“Where are you?”
“Why?”
“Because people are looking for you.”
“Are you one of them?”
“What?”
“My apartment burned.”
Long silence.
“Oh, God.”
“Your fingerprints were on the container.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Your car was connected to Weiss’s murder.”
“What?”
“You expect me to believe you don’t know?”
“Mara, listen to me.”
His voice changed.
Lower.
Urgent.
“I did testify against you.”
I closed my eyes.
Dante stood nearby.
I put the call on speaker.
Ethan continued.
“I lied.”
The words struck harder than expected.
“Why?”
“Because they threatened my wife.”
“You weren’t married.”
“I was engaged.”
I remembered Laura.
She left Grayhaven shortly after my hearing.
“Who threatened her?”
“Calder.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
Ethan continued.
“The refrigerator failed. The logs proved it. Calder ordered the hospital to destroy the local backup.”
“Why?”
“Because Meridian had just renewed a thirty-million-dollar contract. If the failure became public, federal regulators would investigate.”
“So you blamed me.”
“I was weak.”
My throat tightened.
“You hugged me afterward.”
“I know.”
“You testified that I ignored you.”
“I know.”
“You watched them take my license.”
“I know.”
“You ruined my life.”
His voice broke.
“I know.”
I almost ended the call.
Then Dante mouthed:
Ask about Weiss.
“Did you kill Dr. Weiss?”
“What? No.”
“Your car—”
“My car was stolen three weeks ago.”
“Did you report it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
A long pause.
“Because Calder told me not to.”
Dante leaned closer.
“Why would Calder care about a stolen car?”
Ethan heard him.
“Who is that?”
“Answer.”
Another pause.
Then Ethan whispered:
“Dante Morelli?”
Nobody spoke.
Ethan exhaled sharply.
“Mara, get away from him.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“Why?”
“You don’t understand what his family did.”
Dante grabbed the phone.
“What did my family do?”
“Ask him about Sofia.”
Dante froze.
The name changed him.
I had never seen that before.
“Who is Sofia?”
Dante took the phone off speaker.
“Ethan.”
His voice was deadly quiet.
“What do you know about my sister?”
Ethan answered something I couldn’t hear.
Dante’s face went pale.
“What?”
He listened.
Then ended the call.
I stared.
“Who is Sofia?”
Dante said nothing.
“Dante.”
His eyes met mine.
“My sister.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
I felt my anger soften.
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“How?”
He looked at me for a long time.
“St. Catherine Medical Center.”
Everything inside me went still.
I whispered, “What happened?”
Dante turned toward the window.
“She went in for a routine procedure.”
“What kind?”
“Gallbladder.”
That usually meant low risk.
“She never came home.”
I waited.
He continued.
“Hospital said anesthetic complication.”
“Who was attending?”
May you like
His answer made the room disappear.
“Ethan Rowe.”
