Chapter 2 - THE SILVER WATCH
The heavy oak front doors swung open before the security guards could even reach the handle. Rain lashed against the marble foyer. A man stood in the doorway, soaked to the bone. It wasn't Anthony. It was an older man, wearing a priest’s collar, clutching a leather briefcase to his chest like a shield. Father Thomas. The priest who had presided over Anthony’s funeral twenty years ago. Vanessa’s face drained of all color. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Luca stepped past her, his eyes locked on the old priest. “Who sent you?” Luca demanded. Father Thomas didn’t answer right away. He looked past Luca, straight at Eleanor in her wheelchair. Then, with a shaking hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy, tarnished silver pocket watch. I gasped. I had seen that watch before. In an old photograph Eleanor kept on her nightstand. It belonged to her late husband. The watch that was supposedly buried with him. Father Thomas placed it on the mahogany table. “He told me to bring this to you when the time was right,” the priest said softly. Luca picked up the watch. He pressed the latch. It popped open. Inside wasn’t a clock face. It was a tiny, folded piece of paper. Luca unfolded it. His jaw tightened so hard I thought his teeth would crack. “What does it say?” Vanessa demanded, her panic rising. Luca didn’t look at her. He turned the paper around so I could see it. It was a date. September 3rd. The exact date on the fake transfer papers Vanessa had tried to use. “Claire,” Luca’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Ask my mother what happened on September 3rd twenty years ago.” I looked at Eleanor. Her hands were shaking violently now. She didn’t spell a word. She pointed a single, frail finger. Directly at Vanessa. She knows, Eleanor signed. Before I could translate, Vanessa lunged for the watch.
