Chapter 3
The boss ordered everyone out of the restaurant except his men, my manager, me, and the baby.
No one argued.
They moved fast, leaving half-full plates and wine glasses behind.
Friday night chaos became silence.
My shoes stuck slightly to the polished floor where someone had spilled sauce.
I stood near the bar, still holding Nico.
The photograph watched me from above the bottles.
Sofia Bellagio.
Dead wife.
My face.
The boss stepped behind the bar and took the photograph down.
He handled it carefully.
Like it could bruise.
Then he placed it on the counter in front of me.
“Look at her.”
“I am looking.”
“Look closer.”
I did.
My stomach twisted.
Sofia had the same tiny scar above her eyebrow.
I had one too.
My mother said I fell against a dresser as a child.
Sofia wore a silver locket.
My hand flew to my throat.
The boss noticed.
“Open yours.”
This time, I did.
Inside was a faded baby picture.
Me, I thought.
On the other side was a pressed blue flower.
The boss took a sharp breath.
“Sofia had the other half.”
“The other half of what?”
He reached into his jacket.
One guard tensed.
The boss gave him a look.
The guard relaxed.
He pulled out a small velvet pouch.
Inside was another silver locket.
Old.
Scratched.
The same shape as mine.
He opened it.
There was a baby picture inside.
Same baby blanket.
Same hospital tag.
My knees weakened.
“No.”
The boss’s voice was rough.
“Sofia told me she had a twin sister who died at birth.”
My mouth went dry.
“My mother told me I was born alone.”
“Your mother lied.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“She lied or someone lied to her.”
“My mother warned me about men like you.”
His face hardened.
“She had reason to fear my world. But not Sofia.”
The back door slammed.
Everyone turned.
A woman stood there in a gray coat.
My mother.
Elaine Hayes.
Her face went white when she saw me holding Nico.
May you like
Then she looked at the boss.
“Oh God,” she whispered. “You found her.”
