Chapter 18 - The Last Lie My Father Told
Emergency lights flickered on.
Thomas stood in the doorway.
Unarmed.
At least visibly.
Federal agents surrounded him.
He raised both hands. “I’m here to surrender.”
Ethan laughed. “No one believes you.”
Thomas looked at me. “I don’t need everyone.”
I held Noah. “What do you want?”
“To end Providence.”
Evelyn folded her arms. “You had decades.”
“I know.”
“Why now?”
He looked at Noah. “Because I finally understand what it cost.”
I wanted to believe him.
That was the problem with fathers.
Even terrible ones leave a small child inside you hoping they will become good.
Agent Cole cuffed him.
He didn’t resist.
Evelyn held up the drive. “We need your decryption key.”
Thomas nodded. “I’ll give it.”
“In exchange for?”
“Nothing.”
Ethan looked disgusted. “That makes me trust you less.”
Thomas smiled faintly. “Understandable.”
He gave Cole a twelve-word key.
The files opened.
Thousands of records.
Payments.
Names.
Medical procedures.
Corporate contracts.
Government contacts.
Enough evidence to destroy fortunes.
Agent Cole stared. “This is real.”
Evelyn nodded. “Yes.”
Thomas looked at me. “I’m sorry.”
I felt nothing.
Maybe too much had happened.
Maybe forgiveness requires space.
“Why did you shoot at me in the boutique?”
His face changed. “I didn’t.”
“Evelyn says you did.”
Everyone looked at her.
She did not react.
Thomas continued. “I sent someone to photograph you. Not shoot.”
Evelyn said, “Convenient.”
“Your contractor fired.”
“No.”
I looked between them. “Enough.”
They stopped.
“Who ordered the shot?”
Silence.
Then Daniel entered.
“I did.”
The room froze.
I stared. “What?”
Daniel looked destroyed. “I ordered a warning shot.”
Ethan moved toward him.
Agents blocked him.
“You shot at my wife?”
“Not at her.”
“The bullet hit a display beside her.”
“The shooter missed the mark.”
“You hired an incompetent assassin?”
“I hired a marksman.”
Daniel looked at me. “I needed Ethan to see the threat.”
My voice was barely audible. “Why?”
“Because you wouldn’t go back to him.”
I felt sick.
“You wanted me under Romano protection.”
“Yes.”
“For Thomas?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Daniel looked at Evelyn.
She closed her eyes.
“For Meridian.”
I stared at him. “You never changed sides.”
“I changed twice.”
I almost laughed. “Of course you did.”
“Thomas sent me to intercept you. I refused. Meridian recruited me afterward.”
“Why?”
“To keep you alive.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“I know.”
“Did you know they wanted Noah?”
“Not until the hospital.”
“Did you help take him?”
“No.”
Ethan stepped closer. “If there were no agents in this room—”
Daniel nodded. “I know.”
I looked at Evelyn. “You ordered Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Did you order the shooting?”
“No. Daniel acted independently.”
Daniel said, “That’s true.”
I wanted everyone gone.
All the men.
All the secrets.
All the systems.
Then Noah started crying.
The room fell silent.
I rocked him.
“See?” I whispered. “Even he’s tired of this.”
Thomas looked at Noah.
Tears filled his eyes.
I turned away.
“You don’t get to look at him like that.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
He lowered his head.
Agent Cole began escorting him out.
“Wait,” I said.
He turned.
“One question.”
“Yes.”
“Did you love me?”
The room became still.
Thomas answered without hesitation. “Yes.”
“More than Providence?”
“Yes.”
“More than being right?”
He paused.
That pause was the answer.
I nodded. “Goodbye, Dad.”
They led him away.
Evelyn watched.
Then she handed the drive to Cole. “Make copies.”
“We will.”
“And release them.”
Cole frowned. “That’s not your decision.”
“It should be hers.”
She looked at me.
I stared at the drive.
If the records became public, hundreds of people could learn they were Providence subjects. Lives would collapse. Families would fracture.
But secrecy was what allowed Providence to survive.
“Release evidence of crimes,” I said. “Protect the identities of the children.”
Cole nodded. “That’s possible.”
Ethan looked at me. “Good choice.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I know.”
He smiled.
Later that evening, when the building finally quieted, Ethan came to my room.
Noah slept between us in his bassinet.
“Gabriel asked to see me,” Ethan said.
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He’s my brother.”
I understood.
“Evelyn is staying?”
“In protective custody.”
“My sister.”
“Yes.”
“Your brother.”
“Yes.”
“Victoria’s baby.”
“Yes.”
I looked at him. “Our family tree is a crime scene.”
He laughed.
A real laugh.
I hadn’t heard it in years.
Then he became serious.
“I filed something today.”
I raised an eyebrow. “If it’s divorce, apparently we should supervise the paperwork.”
“Not divorce.”
“What?”
“A renunciation.”
“Of what?”
“Romano criminal assets.”
I stared. “All of them?”
“All remaining.”
“Why?”
He looked at Noah. “Because I don’t want him inheriting fear.”
My throat tightened.
“And the legal companies?”
“Trust-managed.”
“By Victoria?”
“If she agrees.”
I smiled. “She’ll charge you.”
“She already did.”
Then he took a folded paper from his pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Our marriage certificate.”
I laughed. “Why?”
“I thought about burning it.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“I’m Italian.”
“You’re American.”
“Emotionally Italian.”
I shook my head.
He handed it to me.
“You decide.”
“Divorce?”
“If you want.”
“And if I don’t?”
He looked at me. “Then we start over.”
“No ownership?”
“No ownership.”
“No secrets?”
He winced.
“I will try.”
“Wrong answer.”
He sighed. “No secrets.”
“Better.”
He leaned closer. “But I need one thing.”
“What?”
“Tell me if there was ever someone else.”
I stared at him.
Then laughed.
“No.”
His shoulders dropped.
“You’ve been carrying that question for months?”
“Yes.”
“You idiot.”
“Yes.”
I touched his cheek.
“I left because I was afraid of who you were.”
“I know.”
“I stayed away because I was afraid of who I became around you.”
He nodded.
“And now?”
I looked at Noah. “I don’t know.”
He smiled sadly. “I can live with that.”
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
I knew that look.
“What happened?”
He lowered the phone slowly.
“Gabriel escaped.”
After Thomas was taken away, I stood in the hallway with my forehead against the cool glass. I had imagined confronting my father a thousand ways over the years after his funeral. In none of them was he alive. In none of them did I say goodbye twice.
Evelyn stopped beside me.
“Do you regret it?” she asked.
“What?”
“Not forgiving him.”
“I didn’t say I never would.”
She looked surprised.
“I said goodbye.”
“That sounds final.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.”
She nodded slowly.
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you forgive Meridian for raising you inside all this?”
“No.”
“Gabriel?”
Her expression tightened. “I love him.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
May you like
“I know.”
For the first time, we looked less like strangers and more like sisters standing on opposite sides of the same wound. Neither of us had an answer. Maybe that was the point. Providence had spent decades predicting us. The first truly free thing we could do was become unpredictable.
