Chapter 3 - The Voice Inside the Bunny
Elena immediately took the stuffed rabbit from Emma.
“What was that?”
The toy looked ordinary. Its gray fur was worn around the paws, and one ear had been repaired with yellow thread. Emma had carried it almost everywhere since her father’s death.
Matteo held out his hand.
“May I examine it?”
“No,” Emma said.
She grabbed the rabbit back and held it against her chest.
Elena knelt in front of her.
“Sweetheart, Mr. Matteo only needs to see why it spoke.”
“Bunny belongs to Daddy.”
The room fell silent.
Alejandro knew the rabbit had been a gift from Daniel Morales, Emma’s father. Daniel had died in a car accident two years earlier, when Emma was still learning to speak.
Elena rarely discussed him.
Matteo crouched several feet away, careful not to reach toward the toy.
“I won’t hurt Bunny,” he said. “I only want to listen.”
Emma looked at Alejandro.
“Will you give him back?”
“I promise,” Alejandro said.
After a moment, she handed the rabbit to Matteo.
A narrow seam had opened beneath its left paw. Matteo used a small tool to separate the fabric. Inside, instead of ordinary stuffing, he found a flat black device no larger than a coin.
Elena stared at it.
“I have never seen that before.”
Matteo examined the circuitry.
“It is a sound-activated recorder.”
“Why would Daniel put a recorder inside our daughter’s toy?”
“I don’t think it is only a recorder.”
He brought the device near the tablet. A signal appeared immediately.
“This transmitted the activation command to the study camera.”
Alejandro frowned. “Daniel died two years ago.”
“The device may have been programmed to recognize a phrase, a frequency, or a nearby signal.”
Emma pointed at the rabbit.
“Daddy said Bunny listens when people tell bad secrets.”
Elena’s face changed.
“When did he say that?”
“A long time ago.”
“You were barely two.”
Emma shrugged. “Daddy whispered it.”
Matteo connected the device to an isolated computer. An encrypted directory appeared, followed by hundreds of short audio files.
Most were harmless fragments from Emma’s daily life: songs in the car, conversations at breakfast, Elena reminding her to put on her shoes.
The newest recording was different.
It had begun in the study twenty-three minutes before Alejandro entered.
A door opened.
A woman’s heels crossed the wooden floor.
Then Sofia’s voice filled the room.
“He will sign the St. Orison transfer tonight.”
A man replied, his voice distorted by distance.
“And if he reads the final page?”
“He won’t.”
“You sound confident.”
“I know which wine he drinks. I know which glass he uses. By the time he understands what happened, the transfer will be complete.”
A small object clicked against the desk.
Sofia spoke again.
“You promised this would only make him confused.”
The man answered quietly.
“Do what you were told.”
Another door closed.
The recording continued through Alejandro’s entrance, his collapse, Emma’s cries, and the arrival of security.
Elena covered her mouth.
Alejandro watched the audio waveform move across the screen.
“Play the man’s voice again.”
Matteo replayed it.
The words were calm and controlled. The speaker had deliberately stayed far from the recorder, making identification difficult.
Alejandro recognized nothing.
Dr. Shah stepped closer to the computer.
“What is the St. Orison transfer?”
Alejandro did not answer immediately.
The name belonged to a charitable development project Sofia had presented to the foundation board six months earlier. According to her proposal, St. Orison Health Group planned to build allergy clinics and emergency treatment centers in underserved communities.
The foundation had agreed to provide the first round of funding.
Thirty-eight million dollars.
Alejandro was supposed to sign the final authorization that evening.
He had delayed the signature because two documents were missing.
“Matteo,” he said, “freeze every foundation account.”
“I will contact the bank.”
“Do not contact anyone. Use the emergency authority.”
Matteo opened a secure application.
The transfer status appeared.
PENDING EXECUTIVE AUTHORIZATION.
Alejandro felt a flicker of relief.
Then the screen refreshed.
The words changed.
TRANSFER APPROVED.
Thirty-eight million dollars had left the Moretti Foundation eleven minutes after Alejandro collapsed.
The authorization displayed his digital signature.
And his private access code.
A code known by only two people.
May you like
Alejandro Moretti.
And Matteo Rossi.
