Chapter 9 - My Mother Came Back From the Dead
I didn't hug her.
That surprised everyone.
Especially me.
Catherine Vale stood twenty feet away.
My biological mother.
Alive.
She had my eyes.
Or I had hers.
Same dark lashes.
Same shape of mouth.
Same habit of holding one hand against the other wrist when nervous.
I hated noticing that.
“Hunter.”
“Don't.”
She stopped.
Rebecca cried quietly beside me.
Rosa looked like she had seen a ghost.
Maybe she had.
“You're alive,” Rosa whispered.
Catherine’s eyes moved to her.
“So are you.”
“That’s usually considered preferable,” Rosa said.
Catherine almost smiled.
Almost.
Then gunshots echoed from the cemetery.
I turned.
“Lorenzo.”
Catherine opened the passenger door.
“Get in.”
I stared at her.
“You don't get to show up after twenty-four years and tell me what to do.”
Her face tightened.
“Fair.”
Another gunshot.
“Get in anyway.”
That sounded more like me.
We climbed inside.
Catherine drove fast.
Rebecca in front.
Rosa and I behind.
I kept looking through the rear window.
No Lorenzo.
My phone had no signal.
The drive from Nicholas’s box remained inside my coat.
Catherine glanced at me in the mirror.
“Do you have it?”
“The drive?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Nicholas found me.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
“Nick knew you were alive?”
“Yes.”
Pain cut through me.
Another secret.
“He didn't tell me.”
“He wanted me to come home.”
“Did you?”
“I was afraid.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Everyone in my life seems to suffer from that.”
“You have every right to hate me.”
“I don't know you well enough to hate you.”
That hurt her.
I saw it.
Some part of me was glad.
Another part wanted to take it back.
I didn't.
“Where have you been?”
“Portugal. Canada. Argentina. Mostly places where Vincent’s people wouldn't look.”
“Vincent died fourteen years ago.”
“His network didn't.”
“Marco.”
“Marco was one piece.”
I looked at Rosa.
“You said he was behind everything.”
“I said he ran the current operation.”
Catherine nodded.
“He didn't build it.”
“Then who did?”
She looked at the road.
“Men like Vincent never build systems around themselves. They build systems that survive them.”
“What does that mean?”
“The hospital trafficking network became useful to powerful people.”
“Who?”
“Judges who wanted secret adoptions. Wealthy families who wanted heirs. Criminal organizations who wanted leverage. Politicians who wanted mistakes erased.”
My stomach turned.
“Babies aren't mistakes.”
“No.”
Catherine’s voice broke.
“They're people.”
For the first time, I heard something in her voice that felt real.
Guilt.
“How many?”
She was silent.
“How many children?”
“Hundreds.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
Rosa whispered something in Italian.
I felt sick.
“And you knew?”
“I spent twenty years trying to identify them.”
“From another continent?”
“I worked with journalists. Lawyers. investigators.”
“Why didn't you come home?”
“Because you were safe with Rebecca.”
I laughed.
“My daughter was stolen.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“That’s why I'm here.”
Rage surged through me.
“So Ava gets kidnapped and suddenly I become worth returning for?”
“No.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I have watched you from a distance your entire life.”
The car became silent.
I stared at the back of her seat.
“What?”
“Birthdays. Graduation. College.”
“You watched me?”
“Yes.”
“That's supposed to make this better?”
“No.”
“It makes it worse.”
“I know.”
“You watched me think my mother didn't want me.”
Tears filled her eyes in the mirror.
“I wanted you every day.”
“Then you should have come.”
“I was afraid they'd use you to reach me.”
“They did anyway!”
She flinched.
Good.
I was done protecting people from truth.
Catherine pulled into an abandoned marina building.
Inside waited two men and a woman with laptops.
“Who are they?” Rosa demanded.
“Federal investigators.”
Rosa nearly reached for her gun.
Catherine looked at her.
“Relax.”
“I don't relax around federal investigators.”
“I remember.”
I turned.
“Why are we here?”
“To copy the ledger.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
Catherine stepped closer.
“Hunter.”
“Lorenzo gave it to me.”
“And Nicholas intended it to expose the network.”
“You don't know what Nick intended.”
“I spoke with him.”
“So did everybody, apparently.”
I held the drive.
“I’m not handing this to strangers.”
One investigator showed credentials.
Special Agent Daniel Cross.
FBI.
“Ms. Ellis, we've been investigating St. Catherine’s for nine months.”
“Then you haven't been very good at it.”
Rosa coughed to hide a laugh.
Cross remained patient.
“We believe dozens of children were illegally relocated.”
“Hundreds.”
He looked at Catherine.
“We haven't verified that.”
“I have.”
I stared at the drive.
“If I give this to you, what happens to Lorenzo?”
Nobody answered.
That told me enough.
“He could be prosecuted?”
“If records connect him to crimes.”
“He didn't steal those babies.”
“We're not claiming he did.”
“But you would use whatever else you find.”
Cross didn't lie.
“Yes.”
I looked at Catherine.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“So this is why you're here.”
“No.”
“You want the ledger.”
“I want you.”
“You had twenty-four years.”
She closed her eyes.
The door burst open.
Everybody reached for weapons.
Lorenzo stepped inside.
Blood on his shirt.
Alive.
I ran to him before I could stop myself.
My arms wrapped around him.
Pain tore through my shoulder.
I didn't care.
He froze.
Then held me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Ava?”
“Safe.”
“Leo?”
“Safe.”
Only then did I realize we were holding each other.
I stepped away.
Rosa raised an eyebrow.
I ignored her.
Lorenzo saw Catherine.
His expression changed.
“You're Catherine Vale.”
“Yes.”
“You're supposed to be dead.”
“I get that a lot tonight.”
I almost laughed.
Then Lorenzo saw the FBI agents.
His entire body stiffened.
“Hunter.”
“They were here when I arrived.”
Cross stepped forward.
“Mr. Rossi.”
“No.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“The drive?”
“In my pocket.”
He nodded.
“Your decision.”
Catherine stared at him.
“You understand what could be on it?”
“Yes.”
“And you're giving Hunter control?”
“It belongs to her.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone else has spent her life taking choices away.”
Silence.
My throat tightened.
Catherine looked at me.
For the first time, she seemed to understand something.
Not about Lorenzo.
About me.
I plugged the drive into a laptop.
Cross stood nearby.
Lorenzo didn't move.
The files opened.
Thousands.
Bank records.
Names.
Scanned birth certificates.
Photographs.
Audio recordings.
Then one folder caught my attention.
ELLIS, HUNTER — PERSONAL.
My heart stopped.
I opened it.
Photographs of me from childhood.
School records.
Medical files.
College applications.
Everything.
Catherine whispered, “I didn't create that.”
Neither did Rebecca.
Rosa looked horrified.
A file had been updated two weeks ago.
Before Ava disappeared.
I opened it.
A document displayed:
SUBJECT: HUNTER ELLIS
MATERNAL LINE: CATHERINE VALE
PATERNAL LINE: UNKNOWN
Unknown?
I looked at Catherine.
“Who is my father?”
Her face went white.
“I never told anyone.”
“Who?”
She backed away.
Catherine Vale had faced criminal networks and exile.
But that question terrified her.
“Tell me.”
Before she answered, Cross opened another file.
His expression changed.
“Hunter.”
“What?”
“This says your paternity was confirmed in 2003.”
“That’s impossible.”
He turned the screen.
A DNA report.
Catherine’s name.
My name.
And beneath paternal match:
VINCENT ROSSI.
Nobody moved.
Lorenzo looked at me.
Then at Rosa.
My stomach dropped.
Vincent Rossi.
Lorenzo’s father.
Meaning Lorenzo and I...
“No,” Catherine whispered.
Rosa looked as if she might collapse.
Lorenzo stared at the screen.
Then Catherine stepped forward.
“That report is fake.”
Cross looked at her.
“How do you know?”
She looked directly at Lorenzo.
“Because Vincent couldn't have been Hunter’s father.”
“Why?”
May you like
Catherine swallowed.
“Because Hunter’s father is alive.”
