Chapter 5 - THE TRUTH ABOUT MARGARET WILLIS
I confronted Faith that evening.
Not angrily.
Not with accusations.
I asked her to sit.
She remained standing.
“What's wrong?”
I placed the newspaper clipping on the table.
Her face drained of color.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your employment file.”
She looked toward the door.
“Did Carmine give it to you?”
“Mrs. Gable.”
Faith closed her eyes.
I spoke carefully.
“Your mother worked for one of my companies.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know that when you accepted this job?”
“Yes.”
The answer struck me.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I needed the paycheck.”
I swallowed.
“Did you come here to investigate me?”
She laughed bitterly.
“Investigate you? Dominic, I came here because the agency said nobody else would take the position and the pay was good.”
I looked down.
“I'm sorry.”
She stared.
“For what?”
“For what happened to your mother.”
Her expression hardened.
“You don't even know what happened.”
“Then tell me.”
Faith sat slowly.
“My mother reported unsafe chemical storage.”
I listened.
“She complained about ventilation problems and missing protective equipment. She kept copies of her reports.”
“Did the company respond?”
“They fired her.”
I felt sick.
“She got sick months later. We spent everything trying to keep her alive.”
Faith's voice broke.
“And after she died, the company sent a letter saying there was no evidence her illness was work-related.”
I looked at her.
“Who signed the letter?”
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Carmine Russo.”
The room went silent.
Carmine.
My most trusted lieutenant.
The man who had managed my businesses while I recovered.
The man who had stood outside my room watching Faith help me breathe.
May you like
I looked toward the door.
And suddenly, the attack that had left me paralyzed began to feel less like an isolated act of violence.
