Chapter 4 - THE LITTLE GIRL WHO HAD NO ONE ELSE
"How unfortunate that she's still alive."
Roman had heard men threaten him before.
He had heard rival bosses promise to bury him beneath the Chicago River, corrupt businessmen threaten his investments, and old enemies swear revenge.
But nothing had ever sounded quite like his uncle's voice that evening.
Victor Vale spoke with the affectionate warmth of a man asking about Sunday dinner.
Roman kept his eyes on Nora.
"What did you say?"
Victor chuckled.
"Don't act surprised, son. You spent ten years searching for that woman. Did you really think I wouldn't know when you found her?"
"Why were your men searching for me that night?"
Silence.
Then Victor answered.
"Because you were a frightened boy who needed protection."
"Your car was there."
Another pause.
Roman continued.
"Nora remembers the ring. The red stone."
Victor's voice became colder.
"That woman remembers more than is healthy for her."
Roman stood.
"Stay away from her."
"Careful, Roman."
"No. You listen to me. If anything happens to Nora or Lucy, I will know where to look."
Victor laughed softly.
"You've become sentimental."
Roman's jaw tightened.
"Maybe."
"That's a weakness."
Roman looked at Nora, who was holding Lucy's school drawing in trembling hands.
"No," he said. "It's the first decent thing about me in years."
He ended the call.
Nora stared at him.
"What did he say?"
Roman didn't lie.
"He knows who you are."
"And Lucy?"
"He knows she's with you."
Nora immediately crossed the room toward her daughter's bedroom.
Lucy was sitting on the rug, arranging colored pencils beside a cardboard castle.
She looked up.
"Aunt Nora?"
Nora knelt and wrapped her arms around her.
The little girl giggled.
"You're squeezing me."
"Sorry, sweetheart."
"Are you sad?"
Nora kissed her hair.
"No. Just happy you're here."
But Roman saw the truth in her eyes.
She was terrified.
That night, he arranged temporary security outside the building and asked Daniel to investigate Victor's connections to Nora's landlord.
Nora objected to moving immediately.
"This is Lucy's home," she said.
Roman looked around at the leaking ceiling.
"You deserve somewhere safer."
"That's not the point."
He frowned.
"Then what is?"
She folded her arms.
"People have been making decisions for me my whole life. Landlords. Employers. Men who think being poor means I don't get a say."
Roman went quiet.
She continued.
"I appreciate that you want to help. But I won't trade one man controlling my life for another."
The words stung.
Because Roman realized she was right.
He had spent years giving orders and watching people obey.
Protection, to him, meant moving people like pieces on a chessboard.
But Nora wasn't a piece.
She was the woman who had taught him that kindness meant recognizing another person's dignity.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Nora blinked.
He rarely apologized.
"Tell me what you want," he continued.
She took a breath.
"I want to know why your uncle is after me. I want Lucy safe. And I want someone to listen when I say no."
Roman nodded.
"Then that's what we'll do."
The following morning, however, the danger took a different form.
A woman from the county child welfare office appeared at Nora's door.
Her name was Ms. Caldwell, and she carried a clipboard and an apologetic expression.
"We received a report concerning Lucy Bennett's living conditions."
Nora felt her stomach drop.
"What kind of report?"
"That she may be living without adequate food, heat, or supervision."
Nora stared at the woman.
Lucy stood behind her, clutching a stuffed rabbit.
"She's safe," Nora said quickly. "I have guardianship. I can show you the papers."
"I'm not accusing you of anything, Ms. Ellis. I do need to follow up."
Nora stepped aside.
The social worker examined the apartment, asked questions about Lucy's schooling, and reviewed the available documents.
The refrigerator was nearly empty.
The kitchen ceiling leaked.
And the heater, despite repeated complaints to the landlord, still didn't function properly.
Nora answered every question truthfully.
When Ms. Caldwell left, she explained that Nora's care and Lucy's attachment were apparent, but housing conditions needed attention.
She offered information about emergency housing assistance and documented the landlord's failure to maintain the property.
Still, Nora knew the timing wasn't accidental.
An hour later, an eviction notice appeared beneath her door.
The landlord claimed repeated lease violations.
Nora read it twice.
Then called Roman.
"They're trying to take everything."
He arrived before she finished crying.
This time, he didn't issue orders.
He sat beside her at the kitchen table.
"What do you need first?"
She looked at him.
"A lawyer."
Roman nodded.
"I know someone independent of my family."
He introduced her to Julia Mercer, an attorney experienced in housing and guardianship cases.
Julia was in her forties, with curly black hair and the brisk manner of someone who had argued with judges before breakfast.
She reviewed the eviction notice.
"This looks retaliatory," she said. "Especially after the complaint about the building."
"Can they make me leave?" Nora asked.
"Not simply by handing you a notice. There is a legal process."
She examined Lucy's guardianship documents.
"These appear valid. We'll verify the court record and respond to any formal concerns."
Nora released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Julia looked at her.
"You've been caring for this child for years?"
"Since she was ten months old."
"Then we'll make sure that history is properly documented."
After Julia left, Nora opened a battered cardboard box beneath her bed.
It held everything Grace Bennett had left behind.
Photographs.
A hospital bracelet.
Lucy's first baby shoes.
A pale green notebook.
Roman watched as Nora opened it.
"Grace was a friend," she said. "We worked together at the diner. She came in exhausted every night and always insisted she was fine."
"What happened to her?"
"A car accident."
"Where?"
"Near the waterfront."
Roman looked up.
"Which part?"
"South Harbor."
He went still.
Nora continued turning the pages.
"She worked another job too. Something involving shipping records. I never knew exactly what."
Roman moved closer.
"What company?"
Nora searched through a stack of old pay stubs.
Then held one up.
The employer was listed as Harborline Administrative Services.
Roman recognized the name immediately.
It had once processed payroll for Victor Vale's waterfront companies.
His stomach tightened.
"Nora, did Grace ever mention my family?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
She considered.
"She once said she was afraid of a man who wore a red ring."
The room went silent.
Roman stared at her.
Nora slowly lowered the paper.
"Roman?"
He reached for the notebook.
Inside, beneath a list of ordinary expenses, someone had written:
If anything happens to me, keep Lucy away from Victor Vale.
Nora's hands began trembling.
Grace had known.
For years, Nora had believed she'd taken in a child whose mother died in an ordinary accident.
Now the dead woman's notebook suggested something far worse.
Roman looked toward Lucy's bedroom.
Then back at Nora.
His voice was barely audible.
"Nora... I don't think Victor has been targeting you because you helped me."
She swallowed.
"Then why?"
May you like
Roman stared at the warning written eight years earlier.
"Because Lucy's mother knew something he killed to keep secret."
