Chapter 3 - The Boy Who Remembered
Roman Vale had spent three years believing his wife died behind the wheel.
By midnight, that belief was gone.
Claire knew because she had watched a man who frightened half of Chicago sit on the floor of his son’s bedroom for almost two hours.
Lucas had eventually fallen asleep.
His small hand remained wrapped around Roman’s thumb.
No security meetings.
No phone calls.
No threats.
Roman simply stayed.
Claire watched from the doorway.
She had intended to leave.
Three times.
Then Theo had asked whether she could make hot chocolate.
Eli had asked whether unemployment meant she could stay for breakfast.
Noah had pretended not to care.
Lucas had silently placed a second pillow on the guest-room bed.
That had been the end of Claire’s resistance for the night.
Mrs. Alvarez found her in the kitchen at 12:16 a.m.
“You’re still here.”
“I have apparently been emotionally blackmailed by seven-year-olds.”
Mrs. Alvarez opened a cupboard.
“They’re good at it.”
Claire smiled faintly.
Then she noticed the older woman’s hands were shaking.
“You knew Amelia?”
“Since she was twenty-two.”
“What happened that night?”
Mrs. Alvarez looked toward the hallway.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Then don’t.”
Claire stirred chocolate slowly.
“But if there’s something that could keep those boys safe, tell Roman.”
Mrs. Alvarez’s eyes filled.
“He wouldn’t listen then.”
Claire stopped stirring.
“What do you mean?”
Before the woman could answer, Roman entered.
His shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows.
He looked less like a billionaire now and more like an exhausted father.
“Lucas is asleep.”
Mrs. Alvarez nodded.
“I’ll check on the others.”
She left too quickly.
Roman noticed.
“What were you talking about?”
“Hot chocolate.”
“Claire.”
“You’ve known me for six hours. You don’t get to use my name like an interrogation technique.”
He leaned against the counter.
“Mrs. Alvarez knows something.”
“So ask her.”
“I did. Three years ago.”
“And?”
“She said she knew nothing.”
Claire poured chocolate into two mugs.
“One for you.”
“I don’t drink sugar.”
“You own four seven-year-old boys. Tonight you do.”
He took it.
That felt like a victory.
Roman stared into the mug.
“Amelia left a charity dinner at 10:42 p.m. Her car went through a barrier near Sheridan Road at 11:18.”
“Witnesses?”
“One delivery driver saw the car lose control.”
“Body?”
Roman’s face tightened.
“Recovered the next morning.”
Claire regretted asking.
“Sorry.”
“She had been driving. That was the conclusion.”
“But Lucas says otherwise.”
“He was four.”
“You think he imagined it?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
Roman stared toward the dark windows.
“I think I failed to listen.”
Claire said nothing.
Roman continued.
“Lucas was asleep when Amelia left the house that evening. At least that’s what we believed. He started having nightmares eighteen months later. He kept saying ‘gray man.’ We assumed it came from a cartoon.”
“And Burke wears gray.”
“Always.”
Claire thought about the man outside the tea shop.
Charcoal coat.
Gray hair.
Phone raised.
“Why was Lucas awake that night?”
Roman looked at her.
“That is the question.”
Footsteps sounded behind them.
Mason entered.
“We found something.”
Roman set down his mug.
“What?”
“Burke’s phone records from the month Amelia died.”
Claire stared.
“How do you have those?”
Mason and Roman both looked at her.
Claire raised a hand.
“Actually, I don’t want to know.”
Mason placed a tablet on the counter.
“Burke made eleven calls to Amelia in the week before the accident.”
Roman’s expression darkened.
“She told me she hadn’t spoken to him in months.”
“There’s more.”
Mason swiped.
“Her phone connected to a tower near Devereux House forty minutes before the crash.”
Roman looked up sharply.
“She was supposed to be at the charity dinner.”
“She left early.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
Claire felt something cold move through her.
“Maybe someone called her.”
Mason nodded.
“Burke.”
Roman walked away from the counter.
“What did the police report say about her route?”
“She was headed home.”
“She couldn’t have been.”
Mason’s face tightened.
“I know.”
Claire understood.
The route from Devereux House to Roman’s home didn’t match the accident location.
“Where was she going?”
Roman turned.
“To the lake.”
Silence.
“My family has an old boathouse north of the city.”
Mason nodded.
“Twenty minutes from the crash.”
Claire looked between them.
“Why would she go there?”
Roman’s eyes went distant.
“We used to meet there before we were married.”
A memory.
Something private.
Something no investigator would know unless Amelia had told them.
Mason’s phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
“Security alert.”
Roman instantly straightened.
“What?”
“Second-floor west corridor.”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“The boys?”
“Rooms are east.”
Roman was already moving.
Mason pulled his weapon.
Claire followed.
Roman turned.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t—”
“I heard you use my line.”
She followed anyway.
Upstairs, the mansion had changed.
Lights flashed in the corridor.
Two guards moved toward an open window.
Cold wind blew curtains into the room.
Roman looked around.
“What’s missing?”
Mason scanned the office.
“Nothing obvious.”
Claire noticed something on the floor.
A photograph.
She bent down.
It showed Amelia.
Beautiful.
Dark-haired.
Laughing.
Four toddlers clustered around her legs.
The photo had been torn from a frame.
Claire picked it up.
“Roman.”
He went still when he saw it.
“I thought you didn’t keep family photographs.”
“I don’t.”
“Then where did this come from?”
Roman took it.
His thumb touched Amelia’s face.
“Her room.”
“Her room?”
“The suite has been locked since she died.”
Mason swore softly.
They ran to the opposite end of the corridor.
The door to Amelia’s old sitting room was open.
Roman stopped on the threshold.
Claire saw his pain before he could hide it.
The room had been preserved.
A book on the table.
Perfume beside the mirror.
A blue cardigan folded over the back of a chair.
Three years of dust.
Except near one cabinet.
There were fresh marks.
Someone had searched it.
“What would they want?” Claire asked.
Roman crossed the room.
He opened the cabinet.
Inside were several boxes.
One had been emptied.
“Letters.”
“What letters?”
“Amelia kept everything.”
Mason examined the broken lock.
“Who knew this room existed?”
“Everyone who worked here.”
“Who knew what was in the cabinet?”
Roman looked toward him.
“Very few.”
Claire noticed something beneath the desk.
A small silver object.
She crouched.
USB drive.
“Mason?”
He took it with a handkerchief.
Roman frowned.
“That isn’t mine.”
Claire looked at the cabinet.
“Maybe whoever broke in dropped it.”
“Or left it.”
Mason studied it.
“I’ll check it on an isolated machine.”
They moved downstairs.
Twenty minutes later, the three adults stood in Roman’s private security office.
The USB contained one file.
An audio recording.
Date stamped two days before Amelia’s death.
Roman pressed play.
For several seconds there was only static.
Then Amelia’s voice.
Claire saw Roman stop breathing.
“Dad, I know what you did.”
A man answered.
Harrison Devereux.
“You know nothing.”
“I saw the transfers.”
“You’re emotional.”
“Don’t do that.”
“You have four young children. You’re exhausted.”
“I found Burke’s payments.”
Roman leaned closer.
Amelia continued.
“If Roman sees those accounts, he’ll know.”
Harrison’s voice became colder.
“Your husband is not an innocent man.”
“I never said he was.”
“He’ll destroy this family.”
“No.”
A pause.
Then Amelia said the sentence that made Roman close his eyes.
“He’s trying to leave it.”
Claire looked at him.
Roman didn’t move.
Harrison laughed bitterly.
“Men like Roman Vale don’t leave their world.”
“He will for his sons.”
“Then you’re more naïve than I raised you to be.”
Another pause.
Amelia’s voice lowered.
“I copied everything.”
Harrison went silent.
“If anything happens to me, Roman gets it.”
The recording ended.
Roman stared at the screen.
Claire whispered, “Copied what?”
Mason shook his head.
“We need the rest of the files.”
Roman’s voice was almost inaudible.
“She knew.”
“Knew what?”
Roman looked at Claire.
“That Harrison had been laundering money through my companies.”
Claire’s blood ran cold.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“Yes.”
She believed him.
That was becoming dangerous.
Roman looked at Mason.
“Lock the property down.”
Mason nodded.
“Nobody leaves.”
Then every security monitor went black.
One by one.
Mason swore.
“Network breach.”
The lights died.
Claire heard footsteps overhead.
Then a child screamed.
“DAD!”
Roman ran.
Claire was directly behind him.
They reached the boys’ corridor.
Noah and Eli stood outside Lucas’s room.
Theo was crying.
Roman shoved the door open.
The window was open.
Curtains blew violently in the night air.
Lucas was gone.
On his pillow lay a photograph of Amelia.
May you like
And four words written across it in black ink.
HE REMEMBERS TOO MUCH.
