The Price of Kindness
Chapter 04 - The Price of Kindness
David didn't ask to enter. Hannah opened the door with Ben standing behind her.
He offered a business card and a sealed letter. “Mr. Moretti wants to thank you for helping Lucia. He's also concerned about how Vincent behaved. We've learned that someone requested your personnel records from the restaurant.”
Hannah showed him the threats. David photographed the messages with her permission and urged her to give the police the originals and preserve them.
“Is Lucia all right?” she asked.
“She's home with her father. A pediatric specialist will see her tomorrow.”
“Did she ask for me?”
David's expression softened. “Several times.”
The letter contained Adrian's number and a request that Hannah contact him if she needed information for her employment dispute or feared further interference. There was no check.
Hannah appreciated that more than money. She'd expected an attempt to buy her silence.
The next afternoon, Adrian called personally. He sounded tired.
“I owe you an apology for putting you in the middle of my family,” he said.
“You didn't send your brother to frighten her.”
“No. But I left her with him. I need to own that.”
Hannah looked toward Ben's room. “She's a little girl. She shouldn't have to choose which adult is safe.”
“I know. I'm learning how much I didn't know.”
Adrian asked if Hannah would be willing to meet with a child-welfare professional to explain what she'd observed. She agreed. She would not discuss the child's statements publicly or allow his lawyers to turn the incident into a publicity contest.
Afterward, Adrian sat alone in the nursery at the Moretti residence. Lucia was asleep on a low bed beside a lamp shaped like a moon. He found himself studying the room the way a stranger might: dozens of beautiful toys, spotless furniture, nothing out of place.
Then he opened a drawer.
Inside was a tiny notebook, its pages covered with crooked letters and colored scribbles. Most said MOMMY or DADDY. A few showed stick figures near a blue square.
On one page a little figure stood behind a door.
At the bottom, in careful adult writing, were four words: GOOD GIRLS DON'T TALK.
Adrian turned the page.
May you like
A second sentence chilled him.
IF DADDY ASKS, SAY YOU FORGOT.
