Chapter 5 - Julian Voss Buried His Father OnceJulian had killed his father.
At least, that was what he had believed for fourteen years.
He told Nadia that night.
Not in the penthouse.
Not in one of his safe houses.
They sat in the closed bakery.
Nadia had insisted.
The police had released the building.
The blood was gone.
The table where Thomas Bell had died had been removed.
But Nadia wanted to reclaim the room.
So she baked.
At midnight.
Bread dough slapped against the stainless-steel counter while Julian sat on a stool.
“My father shot Rafael.”
Nadia stopped kneading.
Julian continued.
“We were twenty-six.”
“Why?”
“Rafael helped me move money away from Adrian.”
“To take over?”
“To leave.”
Nadia resumed kneading.
“Your second attempt.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“My father discovered it.”
Julian’s voice remained calm.
Too calm.
“He brought us to a warehouse. He shot Rafael in the stomach and made me watch him bleed.”
Nadia looked at Rafael through the glass front door.
He was outside.
Giving them privacy.
“He survived.”
“Barely.”
“And Adrian?”
“I shot him.”
Nadia stopped.
“How many times?”
“Once.”
“Did you see him die?”
“He fell from a loading platform into the river.”
“No body.”
“No.”
“And you declared him dead?”
“The police found his coat, blood, and enough evidence to conclude he drowned.”
Nadia wiped flour from her hands.
“You believed it.”
“For fourteen years.”
“Until today.”
Julian looked at her.
“Yes.”
Nadia sat opposite him.
“What kind of man was he?”
“The kind Colton wanted to become.”
That answered more than details could.
Julian stared at the table.
“He believed love was leverage. If you cared about something, someone could use it against you.”
“And now?”
“I think he was right.”
Nadia’s face tightened.
Julian continued before she could respond.
“He was right that love creates leverage. He was wrong about what that means.”
“What does it mean?”
“That having something to lose isn’t weakness.”
He looked at her.
“It means you finally have something worth fighting to keep.”
Nadia studied him.
“You don’t keep people.”
“No.”
“You stand beside them.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“I remember.”
She reached across the table.
Julian looked at her hand.
Then took it.
The bakery was quiet.
Outside, Chicago rain streaked the glass.
“You’re still sleeping on the couch,” Nadia said.
Julian almost laughed.
“Understood.”
“I haven’t forgiven you.”
“I know.”
“I’m holding your hand because your father might be alive and apparently our lives are insane.”
“Very clear.”
“Good.”
Rafael knocked on the window.
The moment ended.
Julian unlocked the door.
Rafael entered carrying a tablet.
“We found Blue Island.”
Nadia stood.
“Station?”
“Not exactly. Abandoned freight depot southeast of the city. Closed in 2008.”
“When my mother disappeared.”
“Same year.”
Julian looked at Nadia.
“We go tomorrow.”
“I go.”
“We.”
She nodded.
Progress.
The next morning, they entered the depot.
Dust covered everything.
Rust.
Broken windows.
Graffiti.
Nadia walked through the main hall.
Seven painted birds remained on one wall.
Her breath caught.
“This is it.”
She remembered.
Her mother holding her hand.
Running.
Rain.
A man shouting.
Claire crying.
Evelyn kneeling.
Count the birds, little bird.
Seven.
How many fly east?
Seven.
How many come home?
Three.
Nadia walked toward the mural.
Three birds faced west.
Four faced east.
“Seven birds fly east. Three return home.”
Julian examined the wall.
“It’s an instruction.”
Nadia touched the third west-facing bird.
Loose plaster.
Rafael produced a knife.
Behind the mural was a small metal compartment.
Inside sat a cassette tape.
And a key.
Nadia stared.
“A cassette?”
Rafael grinned.
“Finally, technology from my skill level.”
They found an old recorder in the depot office.
Rafael cleaned the contacts.
The tape turned.
Static.
Then a woman’s voice.
Nadia sat down.
“My little bird.”
She broke instantly.
Evelyn.
Her mother.
“If you are hearing this, then I failed to come home.”
Nadia covered her mouth.
Julian stood behind her.
Not touching.
Waiting.
“The men looking for me believe the ledger is a book. It isn’t. Not anymore.”
Static.
“I divided it. Names in one place. Accounts in another. Evidence somewhere else. No single person can expose everything.”
Nadia listened through tears.
“The key you found opens box 317 at the old Continental Trust building.”
Julian looked at Rafael.
Rafael was already searching.
Evelyn continued.
“Nadia, if you are old enough to understand this, then I am sorry.”
A sob escaped Nadia.
“I wanted to be your mother more than I wanted to be brave.”
Nadia bowed her head.
“But there are things a mother does because she loves her child, and there are things she does because she wants her child to inherit a world slightly less cruel than the one she was given.”
The tape crackled.
“Do not trust Victor.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Do not trust Adrian.”
Then:
“And do not trust Claire.”
Nadia froze.
Rafael stopped typing.
The tape continued.
“My sister loves you. But fear changes people.”
Nadia looked toward Claire, who had insisted on waiting at Julian’s safe house.
“She made a deal.”
The tape clicked.
“She told Adrian where I was.”
Nadia whispered, “No.”
“She believed he would spare us.”
Static swallowed several seconds.
Then Evelyn’s voice returned.
“He didn’t.”
The tape ended.
Nobody moved.
Finally Rafael said, “We need to get back.”
Julian nodded.
They drove fast.
Too fast.
The safe house door was open when they arrived.
Two guards were unconscious.
One had been shot.
Claire was gone.
On the kitchen table sat a note.
Julian picked it up.
Nadia read over his shoulder.
I’m sorry, little bird.
Beneath it:
He has my son.
Nadia stared.
“Claire has a son?”
Julian looked at Rafael.
Rafael’s face darkened.
“We need to find him.”
A phone rang.
The safe-house landline.
Everyone turned.
Julian answered.
“Voss.”
A man laughed.
Older.
Rough.
Familiar to Julian in a way that emptied the blood from his face.
“Hello, son.”
Nadia watched Julian become twenty-six years old again.
“Adrian.”
“Did you miss me?”
Julian’s hand tightened around the receiver.
“I watched you fall.”
“You watched what I wanted you to watch.”
“Where is Claire?”
“Useful question.”
“Where is her son?”
“Better.”
Adrian chuckled.
“But neither is the question you should be asking.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“What question?”
“Where is Evelyn?”
Nadia stood perfectly still.
Adrian laughed again.
“She’s alive, Julian.”
May you like
Nadia’s heart stopped.
“And unlike you, I know exactly where she is.”
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