Chapter 4
I had never seen that note before.
Sofia’s handwriting was unmistakable.
Soft loops.
Sharp ends.
She had written it before she died.
My hands began to shake.
Leo watched my face.
“Daddy?”
I forced myself to breathe.
“Where did you get this?”
“Mom’s box.”
“What box?”
He pointed toward the closet.
I opened it.
At the back, behind shoes Helena had bought him and clothes he never wore, was a wooden chest.
Sofia’s chest.
I had locked it after her funeral because looking at her things felt like drowning.
I had not known Leo found the key.
Inside were photographs.
Letters.
Her scarf.
Her perfume.
And a sealed envelope with my name on it.
I sat on the floor.
Leo sat beside me.
The envelope had been opened and taped shut again.
Someone else had read it.
I pulled out the letter.
Carmine,
If you are reading this, then the thing I feared reached our son.
Do not trust Helena.
I stopped breathing.
Helena.
Sofia had written her name.
Before I ever married her.
Before Helena stood in my house as my wife.
Before she told me she had only been a grieving friend who wanted to help Leo heal.
The letter continued.
She has been asking questions about your estate, your father’s old accounts, and Leo’s inheritance. I caught her in the garage office twice. If anything happens to me, check the cameras from the night I died.
I read the last line three times.
The night I died.
My wife had fallen from the balcony during a storm.
Everyone called it a tragic accident.
I looked at Leo.
He looked back at me with Sofia’s eyes.
“Dad,” he whispered. “Did Helena hurt Mom too?”
The door opened.
May you like
Helena stood there.
She had heard enough.
