“You know what’s in there,” she says. “You’ve always known it.”
“Alexandra…”
She holds out her hand as if waiting for someone to take it. I call out her name again, and she hesitates but doesn’t look back. “Everything is in there. Everything you’ve wanted to know, everything you need to know, and everything you have to know.”
“Why?” It’s the only word I can get out. I can’t save her. Not this time.
“Dominic told me you taught him never to believe in wishes and hope. That they were useless weapons. Do you still believe that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sometimes hope is all we have left, Luciano. You gave that to me once. I need you to let us have it again. Not everyone in life gets a second chance.”
Those words chill me to the bone. She never looks at me, and I never see her face, but there’s no need. That little girl who held tight to my arm while hugging a pink teddy bear against her chest stands right in front of me, staring at me with her sad green eyes and tattered dress.
And she smiles.
That’s the moment I understand.
Us.
“Be free, little one,” I whisper.
With the wind at her back, she takes one step forward.
And falls.
I wait until I’m back in my office to open the envelope. Lighting a cigar, I sit back in my chair and unclasp the pin. As I pull out the papers one by one, I forget about the cigar, dropping it in the ashtray and letting it burn.
The first thing I come to is a birth certificate. It’s old and yellowed by time, but there’s no mistaking the truth. I scrub a hand over my face and read the words again.
Dominic Anthony McCallum
Mother: Brenda Frances McCallum
Father: Luciano Anthony Ricci
The father’s name is handwritten in blue ink. I smile. Maybe I never knew her name, but she knew mine. She gave Dominic my middle name.
Alexandra was right. Somehow, I think I’ve always known.
Clearing my throat, I set the certificate aside and pull out two handwritten notes. Unfolding the first one, I start reading.
Luciano,
I wish I could’ve given you more notice, but texts can be retrieved, and we wanted your hands as clean as possible. Still, I knew I could count on you to come find me.
You already know what else is in this envelope. There’s a memorial bench at the estate you can visit. I put it there for you. Hilda knows you are to always have access.
Speaking of Hilda, she is telling the police how I remembered the abuse and killing my mother, but when she arrived at the house the next morning, Dominic and I were both missing.
I made sure to leave bloodstained sheets and a gun with my fingerprints. The blood will match Dominic’s. Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.
There’s a sealed letter in here for Detective Javier Rubio. It’s a full confession. Make sure he gets it. I was told you’re to tell him it’s another “tip” and that he will understand. Don’t worry about money. Hilda told me about an offshore bank account. We’ll be fine.
The only way Dominic and I can live, is to die. We have too many eyes on us to ever be at peace any other way.
Never regret the past, Luciano. I don’t.