Chapter 5 - THE SONG SOFIA LEFT BEHIND
I couldn't speak.
The melody continued for a few seconds.
Then stopped.
Dominic lifted the music box.
“Why this song?”
I shook my head.
“I don't know.”
Marcus examined it.
“There's something underneath.”
He removed the bottom panel.
Inside was a tiny cassette tape.
Old.
Handwritten label.
FOR ELENA — IF SHE EVER FINDS THE HOUSE.
My hands began shaking.
Dominic looked at me.
“You don't have to listen.”
“Yes, I do.”
He nodded.
Marcus found an old player in the desk.
The tape clicked.
Static.
Then a woman's voice.
My mother's.
I knew it immediately.
“Hello, Elena.”
My breath caught.
“You won't remember this.”
I closed my eyes.
“I hope that's because you were too young.”
The recording crackled.
“If you're hearing this, something happened to me.”
Dominic looked away.
My mother's voice continued.
“Don't trust the accident report.”
I covered my mouth.
“The person who ordered the car to be damaged wasn't trying to kill me.”
Dominic looked at Marcus.
“They wanted to frighten me.”
The tape continued.
“They wanted me to stop investigating the Vale family's accounts.”
I opened my eyes.
“Dominic's father wasn't the person behind it.”
Dominic froze.
“He was trying to help me.”
A long pause.
Then my mother whispered—
“Richard discovered what was happening.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“He confronted the people responsible.”
The tape crackled.
“He thought he could control them.”
Marcus shook his head.
“He couldn't.”
My mother's voice became quieter.
“The man at the top wasn't part of the Vale family.”
I looked at Dominic.
“He was inside the organization.”
Then the recording stopped.
Marcus checked the tape.
“That's it.”
“No.”
I grabbed the player.
“There's more.”
“There isn't.”
I looked at Dominic.
“My mother knew who it was.”
“Yes.”
“Then where's the rest?”
He stared at the music box.
We searched it.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the bottom was slightly uneven.
I pressed the wood.
A second compartment opened.
Inside was a child's drawing.
Three stick figures.
A woman.
A girl.
And a man wearing a black suit.
The man's face had been crossed out.
Underneath was one word.
MARCUS.
I looked at him.
He went completely still.
Dominic turned slowly.
“Marcus?”
Marcus stared at the drawing.
“I didn't know.”
Dominic's voice was quiet.
“Why would Sofia write your name?”
“I don't know.”
I looked at him.
“You were there five years ago.”
“Yes.”
“You worked for Dominic's family.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know my mother?”
Marcus nodded.
“I met her twice.”
“Why?”
“She hired me to protect Sofia.”
Dominic looked stunned.
“You never told me.”
“She asked me not to.”
“Why?”
“Because she believed someone inside your security team was feeding information to Richard.”
Dominic's eyes hardened.
“And you?”
“I was trying to find out who.”
I looked at the drawing again.
“Then why your name?”
Marcus pointed to the crossed-out man.
“Maybe she wasn't saying I was the man.”
He turned the drawing over.
There was another sentence.
MARCUS KNOWS WHO WE SHOULD FEAR.
Silence.
Dominic looked at him.
“Who?”
Marcus swallowed.
“I never found out.”
“Then why did Sofia trust you?”
“Because I refused to sell her location.”
Dominic stared.
Marcus continued.
“The night she died, she called me.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘If I don't make it home, protect the girl.’”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Me?”
Marcus nodded.
“I didn't know who she meant.”
Dominic stared at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Sofia said if I told you, whoever was watching us would know she had warned you.”
Dominic sat down.
For the first time, I saw how exhausted he really was.
Five years of believing he had failed his sister.
Five years of carrying a guilt that didn't belong entirely to him.
Then Marcus pulled another object from his pocket.
A key.
Small.
Brass.
He placed it on the desk.
“Sofia gave me this the night before she died.”
Dominic looked at it.
“Why didn't you tell me about this?”
“Because I didn't know what it opened.”
I took the key.
There was a tiny number engraved on it.
17.
I suddenly remembered something.
My father's old house.
The locked box.
The number seventeen.
I looked at Dominic.
“My father has a storage unit.”
“Where?”
“Yonkers.”
Marcus stood.
“We're going.”
Dominic nodded.
But before we could leave, a car pulled into the driveway.
A man stepped out.
He was carrying a brown envelope.
He handed it to security.
Then walked away.
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Sofia.
Mara.
Marcus.
And Richard.
Taken the night before Sofia died.
On the back were six words.
ONE OF THEM NEVER LEFT THE HOUSE.
Dominic stared at the photograph.
Then looked at Marcus.
Marcus looked at me.
May you like
And quietly said—
“We've been looking in the wrong direction.”
