Chapter 3
The funeral director’s hands shook so badly he dropped the key twice.
No one spoke.
Elena’s mother clung to Luis.
Luis looked like he was standing only because rage had nailed his feet to the carpet.
I stood beside the coffin while Bruno pressed against my leg, trembling.
The lid lifted.
The scent of flowers and powder rose first.
Then I saw Elena.
Small.
Too still.
Her stuffed bunny lay against her chest.
Her purple sneakers peeked from under the white satin.
My throat tightened.
I had ordered men into graves.
I had watched blood leave bodies.
But this was a child.
A child who had once asked if Bruno had birthdays.
Bruno put his paws on the coffin edge and sniffed near her hand.
Then he whined and nudged the inside panel.
I leaned closer.
At first, I saw nothing.
Then Tony lifted his phone light.
There, scratched into the white lining with something sharp, were shaky letters.
M-A-R-C-O.
Below it.
V-I-C-T-O-R.
And beneath that, one more word.
D-A-D-D-Y.
Luis collapsed against the coffin.
“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.”
His wife screamed.
I closed my eyes for one second.
Just one.
When I opened them, Marco was crying.
“She was alive when they put her in?” I asked.
“No,” he said quickly. “No. She was dead.”
But his eyes slid away.
My voice dropped.
“Did she die in the street?”
Marco sobbed.
“I don’t know.”
I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall.
“Did she die in the street?”
“No.”
The room spun.
“She was breathing,” he whispered. “Barely. Rafael panicked. Victor said no hospital. Said if she woke up, everything was over.”
Elena’s mother sank to the floor.
Luis made a sound I will hear until I die.
I turned to Tony.
“Call Dr. Bell. Now. I want cause of death verified.”
Tony nodded.
“Also call Moretti.”
My lawyer.
“And Detective Harris.”
Tony froze.
“You want police in this?”
I looked at Elena.
“Yes.”
Marco stared at me.
“You can’t. You call police, they look at all of us.”
“Then they look.”
“Dante—”
“You helped bury a child.”
He went silent.
I stepped back.
“Take him downstairs.”
“No,” Marco begged. “Boss, please.”
I leaned close enough for him to feel my breath.
“You are alive because her parents are in this room.”
Tony dragged him away.
Bruno stayed at the coffin.
He kept licking Elena’s tiny hand.
Then I noticed something tucked inside the bunny’s torn ear.
A folded piece of paper.
I reached for it carefully.
Luis saw me.
“What is that?”
I opened it.
The handwriting was small.
Crooked.
Childish.
But clear.
If I sleep too long, tell Daddy I was brave.
May you like
And on the back, one address.
A storage unit in Brooklyn.
