Chapter 5 - MERCY’S RED STETHOSCOPE
Mercy became afraid of black cars.
Yolanda noticed first.
Every time one parked near the Baranti house, Mercy stopped talking.
Then one afternoon she refused to walk past the western wall.
“It’s hot.”
The day was cool.
October.
Yolanda crouched.
“It’s not hot today.”
Mercy shook her head.
“Tommy was quiet.”
That night, Yolanda cried in the laundry room.
Alio found her.
Not intentionally.
He had come looking for Tommy’s sleep sack.
Another sentence he never imagined applying to himself.
Yolanda turned away quickly.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Nothing.”
He stood awkwardly.
Then:
“Mercy?”
Yolanda looked at him.
“How did you know?”
“She stopped bringing the stethoscope.”
Mercy’s plastic stethoscope usually hung around her neck.
After the incident, it remained in Yolanda’s apartment.
“She thinks she should have screamed sooner.”
Alio stared.
“She’s three.”
“I know.”
“Who told her that?”
“No one.”
Children apparently invented guilt without adult assistance.
Alio understood that too well.
“Therapist.”
Yolanda looked startled.
“What?”
“For Mercy.”
“I can’t afford—”
“I wasn’t asking you to.”
Her face hardened.
“No.”
Alio stopped.
Of course.
He was doing it again.
Solving with money before asking.
“Okay.”
He tried again.
“Would you allow me to cover therapy related specifically to what happened on my property?”
Yolanda studied him.
“That sounds like your lawyer wrote it.”
“He did not.”
“Barely better.”
Alio smiled.
“Will you think about it?”
“Yes.”
She did.
Mercy began seeing a child therapist who used dolls, drawing, and play.
No dramatic cure.
She remained wary of cars.
But she started wearing the red stethoscope again.
One morning she pressed it to Alio’s chest.
“You have a heart.”
He looked offended.
“Apparently.”
“Tommy does too.”
“Yes.”
“His is faster.”
“I know.”
Then:
“Your heart was bad when Tommy was in the car.”
Alio froze.
“What?”
“It went like boom boom boom.”
Mercy slapped both hands against her chest rapidly.
Alio sat beside her.
“That means scared.”
She considered.
“Were you scared?”
“Yes.”
“But grown-ups aren’t scared.”
“Who told you that?”
She shrugged.
Alio looked toward Yolanda across the room.
She smiled.
He returned his attention to Mercy.
“Grown-ups are scared constantly.”
Mercy frowned.
“Then why are you big?”
Fair question.
“No idea.”
She accepted that.
Meanwhile, investigators found Martin Reeve.
Not far.
Atlantic City.
He had transferred money out of accounts connected to Halver minority investors the morning after the failed plot.
He was arrested on charges relating to conspiracy, child endangerment, fraud, and obstruction.
Evidence showed something worse.
The process server never existed.
Martin never planned for anyone to discover Tommy after five minutes.
He wanted Cassandra to leave him longer.
Why?
A fatality would have done more than support guardianship.
It would have destroyed Alio publicly.
Triggered criminal scrutiny.
Potentially removed him from any influence over Thomas’s trust.
Then Halver’s board could argue for emergency restructuring.
A dead baby had become a business strategy.
When Victor told Alio, he sat in silence.
Then walked to the nursery.
Tommy was sleeping.
Alio picked him up.
No fear.
Not anymore.
Held him against his chest.
And said quietly:
“You are not anybody’s leverage.”
The baby sneezed.
Alio laughed.
Then changed a diaper.
Badly.
May you like
Progress remained humiliating.
---
