Chapter 4 - THE FAMILY THAT BURNED TWICE
Z
Isabella had spent almost seven years learning how to disappear.
At first, she tried to survive using false names and temporary jobs.
She washed dishes.
Cleaned motel rooms.
Slept in women's shelters.
She learned which subway stations stayed warm overnight and which churches opened their doors during winter storms.
Then the threats began again.
A man approached her outside a grocery store in Newark.
He called her Isabella.
He knew Lucia's name.
And he said her sister was alive.
She followed him.
That was the mistake.
“They kept me in a house outside Philadelphia,” Isabella told Derek.
Her voice was quiet.
They were sitting in a conference room at the clinic with their respective attorneys present.
“How long?” he asked.
“Almost eleven months.”
Derek stared.
“What did they want?”
“The records my mother had copied.”
“Did you have them?”
“No.”
“Did they believe you?”
“Eventually.”
She looked down.
“But they didn't let me leave.”
Derek felt anger rise.
He gripped the armrest.
Isabella noticed.
“Don't.”
He looked up.
“Don't what?”
“Turn my story into an excuse to hurt someone.”
His expression hardened.
“They imprisoned you.”
“Yes.”
“Threatened you.”
“Yes.”
“And you're asking me not to be angry?”
“No.”
She held his gaze.
“I'm asking you to remember that anger and justice aren't the same thing.”
The words silenced him.
Isabella eventually escaped after an investigation into the property forced its operators to abandon it.
She received short-term assistance.
But the threats continued.
People recognized her unusual hair.
She began dyeing it brown.
Then cutting it herself.
Eventually, she stopped caring how she looked.
She slept outside rather than risk staying in places where strangers asked for identification.
The three men Derek had seen attacking her in the alley weren't random thieves.
They had demanded the silver lighter.
She refused.
They beat her.
Then Derek arrived.
“Why carry the lighter?” he asked.
Isabella looked at him.
“Because Leo gave it to me.”
Derek stared.
“When?”
“The last time I saw him.”
His heart began pounding.
“Where?”
“In a basement beneath Saint Brigid's Church.”
Derek stopped breathing.
The same church where Leo had supposedly been shot.
Isabella continued.
“He told me he'd found evidence that the children had been transferred under false identities. He said he was going to bring the records to someone outside the family.”
“Who?”
“A federal investigator.”
Derek leaned forward.
“Did he give you a name?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“Men arrived. Leo told me to leave through a service door.”
Her eyes filled.
“He pressed the lighter into my hand.”
Derek swallowed.
“What did he say?”
Isabella stared at him.
Then repeated the words she'd carried for five years.
“Tell Derek the lighter isn't buried with me.”
Derek felt sick.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knew they'd fake his death.”
“I think he suspected.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
Isabella looked down.
“Because he didn't know whether you would believe him.”
That hurt.
More than Derek expected.
He had loved his brother.
Protected him.
Given him money.
Made sure nobody in the Russo organization touched him.
But Leo had believed Derek would choose their father's word over his.
And perhaps Leo had been right.
Later that afternoon, Derek arranged for an independent forensic review of the lighter.
It was photographed, documented, and examined for identifying marks.
The worn hinge matched photographs Derek had taken years earlier.
The initials Leo had scratched beneath the base were still there.
But the lighter's presence raised an impossible question.
How could an object Derek personally placed inside his brother's coffin have ended up with Isabella before the funeral?
He called the funeral home.
It had closed three years earlier.
The former director had moved out of state.
The burial records contained discrepancies.
And the family vault had undergone renovations six months after the funeral.
Derek stared at the documents.
Then called an independent attorney.
“I want the burial records reviewed.”
The attorney hesitated.
“Mr. Russo, you understand what this could mean?”
Derek looked toward Leo's photograph.
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“It means I may have buried a coffin without my brother inside.”
That evening, Isabella received a package at the clinic.
No return address.
Inside was a child's ceramic rabbit.
One ear was missing.
Isabella recognized it immediately.
She began shaking.
Derek watched her.
“What is it?”
She couldn't answer.
She turned the rabbit over.
Beneath the base, in blue ink, were two letters.
L.C.
Lucia Costa.
Then a folded note slipped out.
Isabella opened it.
Her face went white.
Derek stepped closer.
“What does it say?”
She looked at him.
May you like
Tears filled her eyes.
STOP SEARCHING FOR YOUR SISTER. SHE'S ALREADY INSIDE THE RUSSO HOUSE.
