Chương 6
Liam went still.
“Against who?”
I looked at the photograph of my parents on the table.
The one someone had searched for.
“The Vitalis.”
The room became silent.
Not because Liam was shocked.
Because suddenly everything made sense.
My secret was not that I had slept with Alessandro Vitali.
My secret was that I had never been a stranger to his world.
I had been running from it my entire life.
And somehow, after all these years, it had found me again.
I had spent years believing my father’s death was the worst thing that could happen to me.
I was wrong.
The worst thing was discovering that the past I had survived was never finished with me.
Liam sat across from me, staring at the birth certificate on the laptop screen.
He looked like he wanted to ask ten questions at once and was forcing himself to choose only one.
“Your father was involved with the Vitalis?”
I nodded.
“Not involved.”
The words felt strange.
“Not like that.”
“Then what?”
I looked at the photograph on the table.
My mother’s smile.
My father’s hand around her shoulder.
A memory frozen before everything changed.
“He was an accountant.”
Liam frowned.
“That doesn’t sound like something someone would run from.”
“He worked for one of their companies.”
“Companies.”
The way he repeated the word told me he understood what I was avoiding.
I nodded.
“Real estate.”
“Of course.”
He leaned back.
“Because apparently every terrifying family in Chicago owns buildings.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then the feeling disappeared.
“My father found something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I shook my head.
“He never told me.”
Liam looked confused.
“Then how do you know he found something?”
“Because the night he died, he told my mother they had to leave.”
The apartment became quiet.
I had not spoken those words in years.
Not to anyone.
Not even myself.
“My parents always said we were going on vacation,” I continued.
“But my mother was packing everything.”
Liam listened without interrupting.
“She was crying.”
I looked at my hands.
“I was thirteen.”
The memory arrived slowly.
Not like a movie.
Not like a story I could control.
A suitcase on the hallway floor.
My mother standing at the kitchen counter with both hands pressed against her mouth.
My father whispering into the phone.
The smell of burnt toast because nobody remembered the food.
“I asked my dad where we were going.”
“What did he say?”
I swallowed.
“He said somewhere quiet.”
Liam lowered his eyes.
“And then?”
I looked at the window.
“And then there was a crash.”
Neither of us spoke.
The official story had always been simple.
A late-night accident.
A wet road.
A driver who lost control.
A tragedy.
That was the word everyone used.
Tragedy.
A word that made terrible things sound like they happened naturally.
“They died that night,” I said.
“My aunt took me in for a while.”
“And your name changed.”
I nodded.
“My aunt thought it would be safer.”
“Safer from who?”
I looked at the laptop.
“The people who knew Elizabeth Bennett.”
Liam was silent for a long time.
Then he whispered,
“And Alessandro knew?”
“I don’t know.”
“But he found you.”
“Yes.”
“Emma.”
I looked at him.
“You need to tell him.”
The words made anger rise immediately.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if he knows who I am, everything changes.”
“It already changed.”
“I mean everything.”
I stood up and walked toward the kitchen.
“He will see me differently.”
“Maybe.”
“That’s not maybe.”
I gripped the counter.
“People don’t look at me the same after they know.”
Liam’s voice softened.
“Who made you believe that?”
I did not answer.
Because the truth was everyone.
The adults who whispered after my parents died.
The relatives who avoided explaining anything.
The people who looked at my last name and then looked away.
I had spent years trying to become someone nobody could trace.
Emma.
A waitress.
A nursing student.
A person with ordinary problems.
A person who did not belong to old secrets.
My phone rang.
This time, I knew before looking.
Alessandro.
I stared at the screen.
Liam did not tell me to answer.
He did not tell me not to.
He just waited.
I picked up.
“Hello.”
“You found something.”
It was not a question.
I froze.
“How do you know?”
“Because someone broke into your apartment looking for the same thing.”
My stomach tightened.
“What thing?”
A pause.
Then his voice changed.
“Your father’s records.”
I closed my eyes.
“How do you know about my father?”
“I know more than I should.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
For the first time, his voice carried frustration.
“It isn’t.”
I sat down.
“Tell me.”
“Not over the phone.”
“Why?”
“Because phones are not private.”
I almost laughed.
“Convenient.”
“I know how that sounds.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
“I sound like every person you have been afraid of.”
That stopped me.
Alessandro rarely admitted weakness.
“You’re right,” he said quietly.
“I have spent my entire life around people who assume control is the same thing as safety.”
I looked toward Liam.
“He knew.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
Alessandro became silent.
“What did he know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Emma.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“I believe you.”
The words surprised me.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Another pause.
“Because you lied about your name from the beginning.”
I stiffened.
“I know.”
“But you never lied about how scared you were.”
I looked down.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does to me.”
The conversation felt dangerous in a different way.
Not because I feared him.
Because I wanted to believe him.
“I need to meet you,” he said.
I almost refused.
Then I remembered the photograph.
The break-in.
The birth certificate.
Someone was already searching.
I could not keep pretending silence was protection.
“Where?”
“I’ll send an address.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“No?”
“I choose.”
A small pause.
Then,
“Okay.”
May you like
I closed my eyes.
That word again.
