Chapter 3 - The Empty Bedroom in Bridgeport
I called Omar Reed, my head of security, before I left the hospital. He had served in the military, protected my family for twelve years, and never asked questions he didn't need answered.
"Bring two people you trust," I told him. "No company drivers. No calls through the house system."
"What's happened?"
"My brother may be alive. And someone tried to kill Rose."
Silence followed.
"I'm on my way."
At 4:10 a.m., we reached a small blue house on a quiet Bridgeport street. Rose's neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez, answered in a robe and slippers. When I showed her my photo, she nodded at once.
"Matthew. Sweet boy. Rose said you might come."
"Is he here?"
Her expression changed.
"He was. A woman came by about an hour ago. Beautiful, dark hair, black coat. She said she was Rose's cousin. Matthew wouldn't go with her, so she left. Then someone called and told me there was trouble at the hospital. I took him to the church basement."
"Which church?"
She gave us the address.
Omar drove. I sat in the back, staring at the photo Rose had slipped into my hand before we left. It showed Nicholas holding a newborn wrapped in a yellow blanket. His smile was so familiar it hurt.
At the church, the pastor led us to a storage room. A little boy sat beneath a table, clutching a toy truck.
"Matthew?" I said softly.
He looked up. His eyes were Nicholas's eyes.
"Are you Uncle Alex?"
My throat tightened. "Yes, buddy. I am."
He studied me for a long moment. "Mom said you might come if something bad happened."
I crouched. "We're going to get your mom somewhere safe."
Matthew gripped the truck harder. "The lady in the black coat said my dad was a liar. Then she asked where he hid the blue key."
Omar's phone buzzed. He checked the screen, then turned it toward me.
May you like
A still image showed Camila standing outside Mrs. Alvarez's house at 11:42 p.m.
She had been there before Rose was attacked.
