Chapter 12
The storage locker was in a town Elena and I used to visit before Leo was born.
I remembered the pier.
The rain.
Her red scarf.
Memory came like lightning sometimes.
Bright.
Painful.
Gone too quickly.
Agent Quinn took me there with two federal vehicles.
Sofia stayed with Leo.
I hated leaving him.
He hugged me at the door.
“Come back,” he said.
“Always.”
The locker smelled like cardboard and dust.
Inside were boxes labeled in Elena’s neat handwriting.
Photos.
Medical files.
Bank records.
A small wooden chest.
I opened the chest last.
Inside was a video camera and a stack of letters addressed to Leo.
Birthdays.
Ages nine through eighteen.
My hands shook.
“She knew,” I whispered.
Quinn stood quietly behind me.
“She knew she might not survive.”
I pressed the letters to my chest.
Then I found a flash drive taped beneath the box.
On it was written:
For the day Dante stops blaming himself.
Back at the safe house, we played the video.
Elena appeared on screen.
Alive.
Beautiful.
Tired.
“Dante,” she said, and I broke before she finished my name.
Leo grabbed my hand.
Elena looked into the camera.
“If you are watching this, then I was right about them. I am sorry. I tried to leave enough truth behind.”
She swallowed.
“Do not turn our son into revenge. Love him. That will hurt them more.”
Leo cried silently.
Then Elena smiled.
“My sweet Leo, if your father is beside you, squeeze his hand. He needs it.”
Leo squeezed my hand.
I sobbed.
May you like
On the screen, Elena whispered, “Good. Now both of you breathe.”
And for the first time in years, I did.
