Chapter 9 - THE VOICE FROM THE GRAVE
Dante didn't go to Madison alone.
He brought Marcus.
And Elena.
Not because he needed protection.
Because Elena was the only person who had seen him break down without treating him like he was weak.
They arrived on a quiet Sunday afternoon.
The bicycle shop stood between a bakery and a hardware store.
A bell rang when Dante opened the door.
A man looked up from a workbench.
He had dark hair.
A faint scar near his temple.
And the same crooked smile Dante remembered from childhood.
“Can I help you?”
Dante stopped breathing.
Gabriel looked at him.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Gabriel frowned.
“Do I know you?”
Dante's eyes filled.
“Gabriel.”
The man's expression changed.
“My name is Michael.”
Dante shook his head.
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“Your name is Gabriel Moretti.”
Gabriel stared.
Then his face went pale.
“Moretti…”
He gripped the edge of the workbench.
Dante moved toward him.
Gabriel stepped back.
“No.”
His breathing quickened.
“I know that name.”
Dante's voice broke.
“I'm your brother.”
Silence.
Then Gabriel whispered:
“Dante?”
Dante nodded.
“Yes.”
Gabriel stared at him.
His eyes filled.
Then he whispered something Dante hadn't heard in seven years.
“Big brother?”
Dante broke.
He crossed the room and embraced him.
Gabriel stood frozen.
May you like
Then slowly wrapped his arms around Dante.
And the man everyone feared began sobbing into his younger brother's shoulder.
