THE SERVER, THE MAFIA BOSS, AND THE WEDDING THAT EXPOSED A MONSTER

The old woman’s words hung in the stale hallway air.

She looks exactly like you.

I stared at the closed door of 3B. Nineteen years old. Nineteen years ago, my mother had spent a year away in a sanatorium. She told me she had a nervous breakdown. I had spent that entire year living with my aunt.

“Break down the door,” Nico told his men.

One of the security guards stepped forward and kicked the lock. The wood splintered, and the door swung open.

The apartment was tiny and chaotic. Clothes were thrown hastily into an open suitcase on the bed. The drawers of the dresser were pulled out and empty. Whoever lived here had packed in a panic.

I walked over to the small kitchen table. Sitting directly in the center was the pink and yellow daisy quilt from the photograph.

Next to it was a silver rosary.

I picked up the beads. They were tarnished, but I recognized the small, broken clasp near the crucifix.

“This is my mother’s,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “She lost it years ago.”

Tom walked into the bedroom and came back holding a small, crumpled piece of paper he’d found on the floor near the suitcase.

“Amelia,” he said softly, handing it to me.

It was a birth certificate.

Mother: Margaret Hayes (my mother). Daughter: Lily Hayes. Date of birth: Nineteen years ago.

I had a sister.

“Why would Celeste be paying your sister’s rent?” Tom asked, running a hand through his hair. “And what did Leo have to do with this?”

Nico stepped up to the table and picked up the pink quilt. He ran his fingers over the heavy stitching.

“Because this wasn’t just about keeping a secret,” Nico said darkly. “Richard Harrington’s company didn’t just build offices. They ran a private adoption ring for wealthy clients who wanted to skip the waitlists. They used the construction sites as a front to wash the money.”

I felt sick. “My mother gave Lily up?”

“Or she was forced to,” Tom said, pointing to a ledger hidden under the quilt.

I opened the ledger. It was filled with names, dates, and massive cash payouts. And there, near the bottom, was Leo’s handwriting again.

Found the girl. Harrington is holding her hostage to keep the mother quiet about the structural flaws at the Southside site. I'm getting her out tonight.

That entry was dated the exact day Leo died.

Leo hadn't died because of bad weather. He died because he found my sister and was trying to rescue her from Richard Harrington.

“Celeste knows we have the watch,” Nico said, his jaw tight. “She called Lily to get her out of the city before we could find her. The neighbor said she was catching a train.”

I looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8:45 PM.

“The last train out of the city leaves at 9:30,” I said.