CHAPTER 5 — THE WOMAN BEHIND THE NURSE'S UNIFORM
CHAPTER 5 — THE WOMAN BEHIND THE NURSE'S UNIFORM
By six that evening, I had stopped believing in coincidences.
The contract.
The hidden room.
The photographs.
My father's supposed death.
My uncle's disappearance.
Celeste's deception.
And now Ewan's voice on my phone.
Everything connected to one woman.
Delia Marlowe.
For two years, she had walked through my house wearing a pale blue nurse's uniform.
For two years, I had barely noticed her.
That was my mistake.
I found her in the kitchen.
She was standing at the counter, making tea.
Her temple was still bandaged from the night before.
She looked tired.
But not surprised to see me.
"You've been looking for me."
It wasn't a question.
I closed the kitchen door behind me.
"Sit."
She did.
I remained standing.
"Who are you?"
She looked down at her hands.
"I told you."
"No."
I placed a file on the table.
"Delia Marie Marlowe."
She looked at the file.
"That's my name."
"That's the name on your employment records."
She said nothing.
I opened the folder.
"There's no college record under that name."
Silence.
"No nursing license."
Nothing.
"No previous employer."
Still nothing.
"Your address is a rented apartment that hasn't been occupied in eighteen months."
Delia looked at me.
"You investigated me."
"I had to."
"I understand."
"Then understand this."
I leaned toward her.
"Someone who has been lying to me for two years doesn't get to ask for trust."
She nodded.
"I know."
"Who sent you?"
"No one."
"Who hired you?"
"Your mother."
"My mother was already unconscious."
"Before that."
I stopped.
"What?"
"Your mother hired me."
"When?"
"Three months before she lost the ability to speak."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because she knew what was coming."
I sat down.
"What was coming?"
Delia looked toward the hallway.
"Your father."
Again.
That name.
I was beginning to hate how much power it still had over my family.
"Tell me everything."
She took a breath.
"Your mother discovered the accounts."
"What accounts?"
"The ones beneath Pier 44."
I frowned.
"There were warehouses."
"Yes."
"Money moved through them."
"Yes."
"Why was my mother involved?"
"Because she found the original records."
"Where?"
"Inside your father's private office."
I leaned forward.
"What records?"
"Payments."
"To whom?"
"Politicians. Police officials. Judges. Dock supervisors."
I stared at her.
"And Ewan?"
"He found the same records."
"That's why he was investigating."
She nodded.
"But Ewan found something your mother didn't."
"What?"
"A list of names."
"Whose names?"
"The people your father had blackmailed."
I sat back.
"Why would that matter?"
"Because your father wasn't simply moving money."
She looked directly at me.
"He was building leverage."
I understood.
"If you control enough people, you don't need to control the city."
"Exactly."
I looked at her.
"And my mother?"
"She wanted to destroy the records."
"Why?"
"Because she realized what your father had become."
I looked toward the window.
Snow was beginning to fall again.
"What happened?"
Delia's eyes lowered.
"Your mother tried to leave him."
My chest tightened.
"She was going to take you and Ewan."
"When?"
"Six years ago."
"The week before the fire."
She nodded.
"Your mother had arranged everything."
"Then why didn't she leave?"
"Because your father found out."
I closed my eyes.
Suddenly, memories came back.
My mother packing boxes.
My father shouting.
Ewan standing between them.
Me being sent upstairs.
I had been twelve.
I had thought they were fighting about money.
I had never known.
Delia continued.
"Your mother asked Ewan to take you away."
"What about her?"
"She said she would follow."
"But she didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
Delia looked at me.
"Because someone threatened to kill you."
My hands tightened.
"Who?"
"Your uncle."
I looked up.
"My uncle was dead."
"He wasn't."
"How long has he been alive?"
"Twenty years."
The room seemed to go silent.
"Your father and your uncle were partners."
"In what?"
"Everything."
Delia paused.
"Your uncle built the financial network. Your father controlled the streets."
I stared at her.
"And Ewan found out."
"Yes."
"Then the fire..."
"Was designed to erase Ewan."
"But he survived."
"Yes."
"Where was he taken?"
Delia didn't answer.
I stood.
"Where?"
She looked frightened.
"Don't ask me that."
"I need to know."
"You don't understand."
"I've spent twenty-four hours discovering my family is built on lies."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I understand more than you think."
I lowered my voice.
"Then tell me."
She finally spoke.
"Your brother was taken to a private facility outside Chicago."
"Which one?"
"St. Agnes."
I froze.
"St. Agnes closed fifteen years ago."
"Officially."
I stared at her.
"Who ran it?"
"Your uncle."
Everything connected again.
I reached for my phone.
Delia grabbed my wrist.
"Don't."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because that's where they expect you to go."
"Who?"
"Your uncle."
"Why?"
"Because he wants you angry."
I said nothing.
"He wants you to come after him."
"Then I'll go."
"No."
Her voice was suddenly firm.
"You need to understand something first."
"What?"
She looked directly at me.
"Your brother didn't survive because he was lucky."
She paused.
"He survived because someone else died in his place."
I felt cold.
"Who?"
Delia looked down.
"A man named Thomas Reed."
I searched my memory.
The name meant nothing.
"He worked for your father."
"Why did he die?"
"Because he looked enough like Ewan."
I stared at her.
"They used his body."
She nodded.
"Your father wanted everyone to believe Ewan was dead."
"Then who identified the body?"
"Your uncle."
I felt sick.
"And my mother?"
"She knew it wasn't Ewan."
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"Because they threatened you."
I looked away.
I had spent six years believing my mother had accepted my brother's death.
She hadn't.
She had been forced to live with the lie.
And I had never asked why.
Delia stood and walked toward the window.
"I owe your family something."
I looked at her.
"What?"
"My life."
She turned.
"Ewan saved me."
"From what?"
"My father."
I frowned.
"Your father?"
She nodded.
"He worked for your father."
I waited.
"He was a driver."
"Then how did you meet Ewan?"
"Because my father was ordered to kill him."
I froze.
"What?"
"My father took me with him that night."
"Why?"
"He thought it would make me understand what our family did."
Her voice broke.
"I was nineteen."
I didn't speak.
"We went to a warehouse."
"Ewan was there."
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"Ewan could have killed my father."
"But he didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
"He saw me."
She smiled sadly.
"He told my father, 'You have a daughter. Go home.'"
I looked at her.
"And he let him go?"
"Yes."
"What happened afterward?"
"My father disappeared."
"Where?"
"I never found out."
I stared at her.
"So Ewan saved you."
She nodded.
"And you became his ally."
"Yes."
"That's why my mother hired you."
"Yes."
"To protect her."
"And Ewan."
I sat back down.
"Why didn't you tell me any of this?"
"Because Ewan made me promise."
"What promise?"
"That I wouldn't tell you until you were ready."
"Ready for what?"
She looked toward the hallway.
"For the truth about yourself."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
She didn't answer.
"Delia."
She walked toward a cabinet.
Opened the bottom drawer.
Removed a small leather folder.
Then placed it in front of me.
I opened it.
Inside was my birth certificate.
But it wasn't the one I knew.
The mother's name was the same.
The father's name was different.
I stared at the page.
"This isn't real."
"It is."
"No."
"You were adopted."
I looked up sharply.
"What?"
"Your mother gave birth to you."
"Then why isn't my father listed?"
"Because Adrian Moretti wasn't your biological father."
I couldn't breathe.
"Who was?"
Delia's eyes filled with tears.
"Ewan."
I stared at her.
The room blurred.
"What did you say?"
She shook her head quickly.
"No."
"Then what?"
"Ewan wasn't your father."
She took the document back.
"I said the name is not what you think."
My hands were shaking.
"Explain."
She sat across from me.
"Your father on the official records is Adrian Moretti."
"Yes."
"But there was another man."
"Who?"
"Thomas Moretti."
I froze.
The same surname.
"Your father's older brother."
"My uncle."
"Yes."
I looked at the papers.
"Why would his name be on my birth certificate?"
"Because your mother originally intended to leave with him."
I couldn't speak.
Delia continued.
"Your family has been hiding one final secret."
"What?"
"Adrian Moretti wasn't your biological father."
The words seemed impossible.
"Then who?"
She whispered:
"Your uncle Thomas."
I stared at her.
"The man who supposedly died twenty years ago?"
She nodded.
"He didn't die."
I felt the entire world tilt.
"And neither did Ewan."
Delia leaned closer.
"That's why your uncle wants you alive."
"Why?"
"Because you're the last person who can legally unlock everything your family owns."
I looked down at the birth certificate.
Suddenly the wedding contract made sense.
The trust.
The signature.
The rush.
The marriage.
They didn't simply want my money.
They needed me.
Alive.
Legally competent.
And under their control.
Delia reached across the table.
"There is one more thing."
"What?"
"Ewan asked me to tell you only when you had discovered the contract."
I looked at her.
"What?"
She whispered:
"He left you a message."
"Where?"
"In your mother's room."
My heart began pounding.
"What message?"
Delia looked toward the hallway.
"Behind the portrait."
I stood immediately.
She grabbed my arm.
"Elias."
I turned.
"If you find it..."
"What?"
"Don't read it alone."
"Why?"
Her eyes were filled with fear.
"Because the last time Ewan left a message for you, someone died trying to protect it."
I released her hand.
And walked toward my mother's room.
Behind me, Delia whispered:
"Your brother didn't just leave you evidence."
I stopped.
"What did he leave me?"
She answered softly.
May you like
"A choice."
END OF CHAPTER 5
