Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
For seven years, Nora Ellis had believed Grace Bennett was dead.
She had attended the memorial service.
She had held ten-month-old Lucy while a minister spoke about a young mother's unfinished dreams.
She had cried beside an empty coffin because the authorities said Grace's injuries had made a traditional viewing impossible.
And she had promised a baby who couldn't understand a word that she would never be abandoned.
Now she was staring at a photograph taken less than two hours earlier.
The woman beside Caleb Shaw looked exactly like Grace.
Same dark hair.
Same narrow chin.
Same small scar beneath her right eye.
Nora pressed a hand against her mouth.
"That can't be her."
Roman examined the image.
"Are you certain?"
"I knew her. Of course I'm certain."
She looked again.
"But she's dead."
Daniel kept his voice steady.
"The image needs verification. We shouldn't draw conclusions until we confirm who she is."
Nora looked toward Lucy's hospital bed.
The little girl was sleeping beneath a pale blue blanket.
"What if it's her?"
Roman didn't answer.
Because there was no answer that wouldn't hurt.
If Grace was alive, she had allowed her daughter to grow up believing she was dead.
If it wasn't Grace, someone was using the face of a dead woman to frighten Nora.
Either possibility was cruel.
The following morning, Julia Mercer contacted the authorities handling the fire investigation.
Nora provided an old photograph of Grace for comparison.
Meanwhile, Daniel identified the woman in the recent footage entering a public parking garage several blocks away.
The security recording was incomplete.
But it showed her leaving with a man who worked for one of Victor's legitimate companies.
Roman stared at the images.
"Victor."
The name tasted bitter.
His uncle had apparently kept a dead woman's identity hidden while using her daughter as a target.
Roman wanted to confront him.
Instead, he remembered Nora's request.
No more threats.
No more gang retaliation.
Evidence first.
He asked Daniel to share the information with the detectives investigating the arson.
By afternoon, Nora received a message from an unfamiliar number.
I'm sorry about the fire.
She stared.
Another message followed.
Lucy must never know I'm alive until I can explain.
Nora's hands began shaking.
Then her phone rang.
She answered.
"Who is this?"
A woman's voice whispered.
"Nora?"
The room seemed to tilt.
Nora knew that voice.
She had heard it laughing in the diner kitchen.
Singing lullabies.
Begging a crying baby to sleep.
"Grace?"
A sob came through the speaker.
"I'm so sorry."
Nora stumbled backward into a chair.
"You're alive?"
"Please listen."
"You're alive?"
"I know what you must think."
"What I think?" Nora's voice broke. "I buried you!"
Grace began crying.
"I didn't have a choice."
Nora looked toward Lucy, who was coloring beside Rosa in the next room.
"You had a daughter."
"I know."
"She was ten months old."
"I know."
"She learned to walk without you. She started school without you. She cried on Mother's Day because she thought you were in heaven."
Grace made a broken sound.
"Nora, please."
For a moment, anger overcame disbelief.
"Where have you been?"
Grace whispered, "Hiding."
"From Victor?"
A long pause.
"Yes."
Nora closed her eyes.
Grace continued.
"I found records connecting him to Adrian Vale's death. I tried to report them. Someone inside the investigation warned him."
"What happened?"
"He told me Lucy would die if I talked."
Nora's throat tightened.
"So you disappeared?"
"He arranged it. A staged accident. New documents. A new name."
"Why didn't you come back?"
"Because every time I tried, someone reminded me where Lucy lived."
Nora covered her face.
For seven years, she had worked herself sick to raise another woman's daughter.
Now that woman was alive.
And watching from the shadows.
"Why were you at the building last night?" Nora demanded.
"I followed Caleb. I was trying to find out what he planned."
"Did you know there was going to be a fire?"
"No. I swear."
"Then why didn't you warn us?"
"I tried calling. The number didn't connect."
Nora remembered Roman changing their contact arrangements after Victor's threats.
Grace lowered her voice.
"There's evidence you need. Victor's old shipping accounts. The payment for Adrian Vale's murder."
Nora went still.
"Where?"
"I can't explain over the phone."
"Then come to the police."
Grace began breathing rapidly.
"You don't understand. Victor has people everywhere."
"Not everywhere."
"He has enough."
The line went quiet.
Then Grace whispered, "Tell Roman the truth about Pier Nineteen."
"What truth?"
"His father wasn't killed by an outside family."
Nora swallowed.
"Who killed him?"
"Victor arranged it."
Nora closed her eyes.
Roman had suspected that.
But hearing it from a living witness made the horror real.
Grace continued.
"There's a storage unit near the old train depot. The account records are inside a metal box."
She gave Nora a number.
Then said something unexpected.
"Tell Lucy I loved her."
Nora's eyes filled.
"You can tell her yourself."
"I don't know if I'll get the chance."
Before Nora could answer, the line went dead.
Roman arrived twenty minutes later.
Nora told him everything.
He listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he sat very still.
"Victor killed my father," he said quietly.
Nora touched his hand.
"We need proof."
Roman nodded.
But his face had changed.
He looked as though the ground beneath his entire childhood had disappeared.
Victor had taught him how to drive.
How to negotiate.
How to recognize a lie.
He had attended Roman's graduation.
Had placed a hand on his shoulder at Adrian's funeral.
Had called him son.
And all along, he might have been the man responsible for the funeral.
That evening, Roman visited Victor's private club.
The older man was sitting beside a fireplace, drinking whiskey.
At fifty-nine, Victor Vale remained handsome in a severe, calculating way.
His silver hair was neatly combed.
The familiar ruby ring flashed on his hand.
"Roman," he said warmly. "My boy."
Roman didn't sit.
"Did you kill my father?"
Victor's smile faded.
For several seconds, only the fireplace crackled.
Then Victor set down his glass.
"Who put that thought in your head?"
"Answer me."
Victor studied him.
"Your father was weak."
Roman's blood chilled.
"That's not an answer."
"He wanted to walk away from everything we built."
Roman stepped closer.
"He wanted to stop the violence."
Victor laughed.
"Violence built your empire."
"No. My father built a shipping company. You turned it into a criminal organization."
Victor's expression hardened.
"Careful."
Roman looked at the ruby ring.
"You were in that alley."
"Yes."
"You sent men to find me."
"Yes."
Roman swallowed.
"To save me?"
Victor stared.
Then smiled.
"Would the answer change anything?"
Roman felt his hands curl into fists.
But he forced himself to remain still.
He had promised Nora.
He would not become his uncle.
Victor leaned back.
"You're making a mistake protecting those women."
Roman looked at him.
"Then I'll make it."
"Family comes first."
Roman's voice was cold.
"That's what Nora taught me."
Victor laughed.
"She's made you soft."
Roman turned toward the door.
"No," he said. "She reminded me I still have a conscience."
As he left, Victor called after him.
"Roman?"
He stopped.
"Your father made the same mistake."
Roman looked back.
Victor smiled faintly.
"He believed kindness could change dangerous men."
A pause.
"Look where it got him."
Roman walked out without answering.
Outside, Chicago's streets glittered beneath the rain.
He reached his car.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message from Nora.
Grace called again. She's agreed to meet us.
Roman stared at the screen.
May you like
Below it was another message.
She says she has proof Victor killed your father.
