Chapter 9 - THE WINTER HOUSE
Snow covered the road north.
Victoria sat beside Adriano in the rear of the car.
Neither spoke for the first hour.
Then she said:
“You hate me.”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
Adriano continued.
“But hatred is not useful yet.”
Victoria looked out the window.
“You sound like your father.”
“That is not a compliment.”
“No.”
Adriano studied her.
“Did you hate Elena?”
Victoria’s expression softened.
“No.”
“Envy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She was free around you.”
Adriano almost laughed.
“Elena would disagree.”
“You listened to her.”
“Not enough.”
“But more than anyone else.”
Victoria looked down.
“My father never listened. Lucian listened until he thought he needed to protect me from myself.”
Adriano noticed.
“You still love him.”
“Yes.”
“Then understand what you did.”
“I do.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You understand what your father threatened. You do not yet understand what Sophia felt when you grabbed her.”
Victoria became quiet.
Good.
The Winter House appeared after midnight.
Stone.
Dark timber.
Frozen lake behind it.
No lights except one upstairs window.
Adriano entered with four men.
Victoria beside him.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, the air smelled of cedar and old smoke.
A fire burned in the main room.
No person.
On a table sat a child’s teacup.
Sophia’s name painted on the side.
Victoria whispered:
“He knows she exists.”
Adriano looked at her.
“He knew before tonight.”
The gift was not new.
Dust had gathered beneath it.
Someone had prepared for Sophia long ago.
A sound came from upstairs.
Adriano moved.
Victoria followed.
They found a bedroom.
A woman’s coat hung beside the door.
Adriano stopped.
Elena’s.
He touched the sleeve.
He had bought it for her in Montreal.
Victoria saw his face.
“She was here.”
“Recently?”
Adriano smelled the fabric.
Faint perfume.
Impossible to date.
On the bedside table was another handmade doll.
Not Sophia’s.
This one had dark thread across its mouth.
Adriano opened its seam.
Inside was a small silver ring.
Nico’s.
Adriano recognized the initials.
N.B.
His brother had been here too.
The Winter House connected every missing Bellacorte.
Nico.
Elena.
Lorenzo.
Maybe Margaret.
Victoria opened the closet.
Inside were marks scratched into the wood.
Dates.
Recent.
One from four months earlier.
Elena.
She had written only:
SOPHIA MUST NEVER KNOW THE SONG.
Adriano stared.
“What song?”
Victoria looked confused.
A child’s music box began playing downstairs.
Both froze.
The melody drifted upward.
Adriano knew it.
Elena used to hum it to Sophia.
A simple lullaby.
Three descending notes.
Pause.
Two rising.
Sophia loved it.
Adriano ran downstairs.
The music box sat on the table beside the child’s cup.
It had not been there before.
Someone was inside the house.
Guards spread.
No one found.
Adriano opened the music box.
Inside the lid was a serpent wrapped around a crown.
Below it:
THE CHILD REMEMBERS WHAT THE MOTHER HID.
Victoria whispered:
“The song is a code.”
Adriano looked at her.
“For what?”
She shook her head.
A door slammed outside.
Adriano moved to the window.
A figure crossed the snow toward the frozen lake.
Male.
Older.
Adriano ran.
His men followed.
The figure reached a small boathouse.
Adriano caught him inside.
He turned.
Lorenzo Bellacorte.
Victoria’s supposedly dead father.
Seventy.
Still broad-shouldered.
Scar along his jaw.
Victoria stopped at the doorway.
“Dad.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
No affection.
Only assessment.
“You failed.”
Victoria’s face collapsed.
Adriano stepped between them.
“She’s not your concern.”
Lorenzo smiled.
“She has always been my concern.”
“You threatened her husband.”
“Yes.”
“You ordered her to grab my daughter.”
“I ordered her to retrieve what Elena stole.”
“From a three-year-old.”
“She was not supposed to hurt the child.”
Victoria whispered:
“That’s what everyone says after.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
For the first time something like shame appeared.
Then vanished.
Adriano held up the serpent token.
“You wanted this.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it names me.”
Adriano’s eyes narrowed.
“Custodian.”
Lorenzo nodded.
“For thirteen years.”
“Current?”
“No.”
Adriano stopped.
“Who replaced you?”
Lorenzo smiled.
“If I knew, Elena would already be home.”
The night shifted again.
“You lost control.”
“I was removed.”
“By who?”
“The same person who took your wife.”
Adriano stepped closer.
“Name.”
Lorenzo looked toward the dark lake.
“I never saw the face.”
Adriano grabbed him.
“You expect me to believe the Custodian was overthrown by a stranger?”
“No.”
May you like
Lorenzo looked directly at him.
“I expect you to understand the person who replaced me was someone I trusted enough to stand behind me.”
