Chapter 10 – THE GIRL WHO DIDN’T EXIST

“Madison is Grace?” I said, stepping back from the counter. “Madison is the mafia baby?”

Linda slowly nodded.

“Your grandfather faked Anna’s death, helped her change her name to Mary, and hid her here in this small town. He bought the house next door for her so he could keep watch.”

Madison was hyperventilating.

“My parents didn’t die because Tyler was drunk?” she cried.

“Tyler was drunk,” Linda clarified softly. “He did hit their car that night. But he didn’t kill them. When he ran away, Anna and your father were still alive.”

Linda pointed a trembling finger at the newspaper clippings in Madison’s diary.

“The police report said they died of blunt force trauma. But they didn’t die from the crash. Celia Moretti’s men found the accident scene before the ambulance arrived. They finished the job.”

Madison collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, burying her face in her hands.

Everything we had learned yesterday was only a fraction of the truth.

Grandpa hadn’t just adopted Madison out of guilt for Tyler’s accident.

He adopted Madison to hide her from the most dangerous family in Chicago.

“David found out,” I realized, putting the pieces together. “Dad found out who Madison really was, and he used it to blackmail Grandpa. And when Grandpa ran out of money… Dad stole the Moretti bracelet as a bargaining chip.”

“Exactly,” Linda said.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the counter.

It was an unknown number from a Chicago area code.

I stared at it.

“Don’t answer it,” Linda warned.

But it kept buzzing. And then, a text message came through.

“I know you found the envelope, Olivia. Turn on the news.”

My blood ran cold.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the small kitchen television to the local news station.

The breaking news banner flashed red across the bottom of the screen.

“FBI Raids County Jail: Suspect Found Dead in Cell.”

The reporter’s voice was grim.

“Local resident David Carter, arrested late last night on charges of fraud and murder, was found dead in his holding cell this morning. Authorities suspect foul play.”

I dropped the remote.

Dad was dead.

The mob had gotten to him in less than twelve hours.

“They’re tying up loose ends,” Linda whispered, terrified. “They know David was arrested. They know the police found the hidden compartment in the truck.”

Madison looked up, tears streaming down her face.

“If they killed David to keep him quiet… they’re coming for us next.”

Another text message popped up on my phone.

“Look outside.”

I slowly walked to the kitchen window and peeked through the blinds.

A sleek black town car was parked across the street.

Standing on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette, was a tall man in a tailored suit.

He wasn’t hiding. He wanted us to see him.

He dropped the cigarette, crushed it with his expensive leather shoe, and looked directly at our window.

He pulled something out of his pocket and held it up.

It was a small, torn piece of a child’s drawing.

The other half of the drawing from Madison’s diary.

“Aunt Linda,” I whispered, backing away from the window. “We have to run.”

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