Chapter 17 - FORTY-EIGHT HOURS TO TELL THE TRUTH
Victor Sloane's ultimatum did not mention money.
It did not demand a meeting.
It did not contain a location.
That made it more disturbing.
For the first time in years, Dante felt the old impulse return.
He wanted to find Victor.
Corner him.
Demand answers.
Make him understand what it meant to threaten someone under the protection of the Moretti family.
But that family no longer existed in the form Victor remembered.
And Dante refused to resurrect it.
Instead, he placed one call.
To Assistant United States Attorney Rachel Grant, who had handled part of the original Moretti investigation.
"Victor Sloane is threatening a minor," Dante said.
Rachel listened to his explanation.
Then replied, "Send me everything."
Within hours, federal investigators began evaluating the records recovered from the Baldwin.
Rebecca's team preserved the messages and coordinated with local authorities about the theater incident.
Julia Price reviewed the suspicious guardianship documents.
No one promised immediate arrests.
No one claimed a case was solved because a dramatic recording had been discovered.
But the investigation was finally moving.
And Dante knew how important that was.
He also knew that somewhere, Evelyn was frightened.
Clara knew something else.
Evelyn might not want the Moretti family involved at all.
"She has spent years being treated like a document adults can pass around," Clara said that night.
Dante sat across from her at the kitchen table.
"I want to help her."
"I know."
"Do you think she'd refuse?"
"I think she deserves the choice."
He looked toward the staircase.
"Leo wrote her a letter."
"I know."
"Maybe we should send it through Dr. Ellis."
Clara nodded.
"If Dr. Ellis can deliver it without putting pressure on her."
They contacted Naomi the next morning.
The director agreed to pass along Leo's message if Evelyn reached out again.
She also agreed not to share Evelyn's location without an appropriate reason or permission.
Dante accepted that.
Not happily.
But sincerely.
At school, Leo had a difficult day.
His mathematics teacher changed the seating arrangement without notice.
Then the fire alarm sounded during lunch.
By the time Mia collected him for his scheduled afternoon music session, he was exhausted.
He didn't want to talk.
He didn't want music.
He didn't want questions.
Mia drove him home in silence.
Clara met them at the entrance.
"Hi."
Leo nodded.
"Quiet room?"
Another nod.
She opened the door.
He went inside.
For an hour, no one disturbed him.
Later, he emerged wearing comfortable clothes and carrying his blue notebook.
"Dad?"
Dante looked up from the living-room sofa.
"Yes?"
"Are you scared?"
Dante considered lying.
Instead, he said, "I'm worried about Evelyn."
"Me too."
Leo sat in the chair beside him.
Not close enough to touch.
Close enough to talk.
"Do you think she'll want to know her mom?"
"I don't know."
Leo looked at the notebook.
"When Mom died, I remembered her voice but not everything she looked like."
Dante swallowed.
"I know."
"I didn't like when people told me what she would want."
Dante went still.
"Who did that?"
"People at the funeral. People later."
He flipped through the notebook.
"They kept saying Mom would want me to be brave."
Dante looked down.
He remembered saying those words himself.
More than once.
Leo continued.
"Sometimes I didn't want to be brave."
Dante's eyes filled.
"I'm sorry."
Leo nodded.
"I know."
Then he added, "Maybe Evelyn doesn't want us to make her brave either."
Dante looked at his son for a long time.
"That's a very good point."
Leo returned to his notebook.
"Can I ask something?"
"Anything."
"Did Mom ever meet my new mom?"
Dante smiled faintly.
"Clara?"
"Yes."
"Not that we know of."
Leo thought about it.
"That's strange."
"What is?"
"Because Mom heard Clara's music."
Dante sat upright.
Leo continued.
"Maybe she would have liked her."
Dante looked toward the kitchen, where Clara was preparing tea.
"I think she would have."
That evening, Naomi called.
Evelyn had contacted the arts center.
She had received Leo's letter.
And she wanted to reply.
But only to Leo.
Clara brought the phone into the living room.
"Leo, Evelyn would like to talk with you. You can say no."
He considered it.
"Can I use speakerphone?"
"Only if she agrees."
Naomi relayed the question.
Evelyn agreed.
Her voice came through the speaker.
"Hi."
Leo sat on the carpet.
"Hi."
A long pause followed.
Clara resisted the urge to fill it.
Finally, Evelyn said:
"I liked your letter."
"Good."
"I didn't know what to say."
"That's okay."
Another pause.
Then Leo asked:
"Do you like piano?"
"Sometimes."
"What kind?"
"Quiet."
"Me too."
Evelyn laughed softly.
It was the first relaxed sound anyone had heard from her.
Leo asked if she had listened to Sofia's recordings.
Evelyn said yes.
She had memorized one.
The one where Sofia described a song about finding a safe place.
Leo thought for a moment.
"Soft Blue?"
"No."
"What was it called?"
"She never gave it a title."
Leo looked at Clara.
"Mom did that a lot."
Clara smiled.
Evelyn continued.
"She told me the song belonged to anyone who needed to leave a room."
Leo considered that.
"That's a good song."
"I think so too."
They spoke for nearly fifteen minutes.
No interrogation.
No demands.
No attempts to uncover her location.
Just music.
At the end, Evelyn said something that made Clara's heart tighten.
"Leo?"
"Yes?"
"Did your dad really change?"
Leo frowned.
"Change what?"
"I heard he used to scare people."
Leo looked toward Dante.
"Yes."
"Does he still?"
"Sometimes he looks scary."
Dante closed his eyes.
Leo continued.
"But he asks questions now."
A pause.
"Mostly."
Clara covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Evelyn asked:
"Do you trust him?"
Leo answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
Then he added:
"But if he does something wrong, I tell him."
For several seconds, Evelyn was silent.
Then she whispered:
"I wish I could do that."
The call ended shortly afterward.
Naomi promised to contact them if Evelyn wished to speak again.
Clara approached Dante.
"You okay?"
He nodded slowly.
"I spent years thinking Leo needed me to teach him how to face the world."
"And?"
"He keeps teaching me."
Clara kissed his forehead.
"That's usually how parenting works."
The next morning, investigators identified a key connection.
Victor Sloane had recently accessed funds from a dormant trust account connected to the old St. Aurelia organization.
The transaction had been authorized using a digitally certified document.
The certificate originated from a law office in White Plains.
The office belonged to Victor's longtime attorney, Charles Renner.
Rachel Grant arranged for investigators to seek relevant records through lawful process.
Meanwhile, Rebecca traced the event organizers who had registered the unauthorized concert.
The company was called Blue Harbor Productions.
It had been incorporated only six weeks earlier.
Its listed managing director was a woman named Laura Finch.
No one in the Moretti family recognized the name.
But Clara did recognize the photograph attached to the company's promotional website.
Laura Finch had attended their wedding.
She had introduced herself as a music journalist.
She had asked Clara about Sofia.
And she had spent several minutes speaking privately with Victor Sloane near the piano.
"Rebecca," Clara said, "I remember her."
Rebecca examined the image.
"Are you certain?"
"Absolutely."
"What did she ask you?"
"Whether Sofia's compositions could be performed after her death."
"And what did you say?"
"That her estate controlled the recordings and Leo's wishes would matter."
Rebecca was quiet.
Clara frowned.
"What?"
Rebecca opened another file.
"Laura Finch isn't her real name."
"Who is she?"
"Her legal name is Laura Ward."
Clara went still.
"Ward?"
Rebecca nodded.
"Helen's younger sister."
Clara stared.
The woman who helped Victor organize an event using Leo's name was related to Evelyn.
The same Evelyn Victor had allegedly tried to control through fraudulent paperwork.
Clara tried to make sense of it.
"Why would Helen's sister work with him?"
Rebecca looked troubled.
"That's what we need to find out."
Then her phone vibrated.
A new message arrived from Naomi.
It contained one sentence.
Evelyn says her aunt Laura promised to take her to her mother tomorrow.
Clara felt the blood drain from her face.
Because they had spent days searching for Helen Ward.
May you like
But someone close to Evelyn had just claimed to know exactly where Helen was.
And Victor Sloane's forty-eight-hour deadline would expire tomorrow.
