THE MAFIA BOSS LET A TERRIFIED STRANGER SIT ON HIS LAP—THEN DISCOVERED HER DEAD MOTHER WAS ALIVE

For a long time, the only sound was the nightclub's distant music. I stared at Dante, waiting for the punch line that never came.

"Six years?" I repeated. "You were looking for my mother six years ago?"

"Her name was Evelyn Bennett," he said. "Before that, Evelyn Ward. She worked for a shipping accountant named Daniel Mercer."

My father's name was Daniel Mercer. I had spent my childhood believing he'd abandoned us. I hadn't heard anyone say it aloud in years.

"He was my father."

Dante's expression told me he already knew. That hurt more than I expected. He'd asked me questions, offered me dinner, and watched me trust him while holding a piece of my life behind his teeth.

"You knew who I was when I told you my last name."

"I suspected. I wasn't certain."

"That's a convenient distinction."

Isabella quietly left us alone. Gabriel remained by the door, giving me the courtesy of pretending not to listen.

Dante set his phone on the table between us. "Your father found evidence that a political fundraising network was laundering money through commercial freight. He disappeared before he could testify. Your mother disappeared a year later."

"She died," I said. "I buried her."

"You buried what someone told you were her ashes."

I hated him for saying it. I hated the terrible little part of me that wanted him to be right.

He showed me a photograph of a young man standing beside my father. The younger man was Dante. He looked twenty-three, reckless, almost happy.

"Daniel saved my life," Dante said. "I promised I would help him expose the people who framed him. I failed."

"And you think feeding me pasta makes up for that?"

"No."

It was the first answer he'd given that didn't feel like a strategy.

I reached for the tablet again. My mother's face was older, yes, but unmistakable. Her silver bird necklace was gone. She wore a pearl necklace and held Cameron's arm as if they were acquaintances.

"Did she see the cameras?"

"She looked directly into one," Isabella said from the doorway. "We think she wanted us to find the picture."

My dead mother had walked into a mafia boss's club with my abusive boyfriend, and now everyone seemed to know more about it than I did.

"Take me to her," I said.

"We don't know where she is."

"Then I don't need you."

I started for the exit. Dante didn't grab me. He simply said, "Cameron called the police twelve minutes ago. He reported you missing and claimed you're a danger to yourself."

I stopped. Of course he had. Cameron had always been most dangerous when he sounded concerned.

"I can take you to a hotel," Dante said. "Or to a women's shelter with no connection to me. Or Gabriel can drive you anywhere you choose. The decision is yours."

I looked back. "And if I choose the hotel?"

"Then the room has two exits, a working lock, and nobody enters without your permission."

For the first time that night, his offer sounded like a choice rather than another cage.

I chose the Meridian.

The suite was beautiful in a way that made me uncomfortable. I checked the bathroom window, the connecting door, and the closet. Gabriel waited in the hall while I inspected everything. On the desk stood a paper bag containing clean clothes, toiletries, a charger, and a new phone.

There was also a note in Dante's blunt handwriting: No obligation. Call if you need anything.

I locked the door, took the longest shower of my life, and cried until the water ran cold.

At 3:17 a.m., the new phone rang.

Unknown number.

I almost ignored it. Then a woman's voice whispered, "Nora, listen carefully."

My hand went numb.

"Mom?"

"Do not trust the senator. Do not trust Cameron. And whatever Dante Valenti tells you—"

A crash sounded on the other end.

"Mom!"

"Find the blue bird," she gasped. "The one that doesn't fly."

The line went dead.