Chapter 9 - St. Gabriel’s
The abandoned children’s home stood beyond the city limits, hidden behind bare trees and a rusted iron gate.
David did not go alone.
He agreed to Victor’s demand in words only. Hale’s tactical team followed at a distance, tracking a device sewn into David’s coat.
Snow had begun to fall.
Inside St. Gabriel’s, the air smelled of damp plaster and burned dust. Children’s drawings still clung to walls beneath layers of mold. Names had been written above hooks in the entrance hall, then scratched away.
David heard music upstairs.
A lullaby.
His mother used to sing it.
He followed the sound to a former dormitory.
Victor stood near the windows wearing a dark wool coat. The serpent ring gleamed on his right hand.
Jonah sat tied to a chair, blood running from his eyebrow.
“You came,” Victor said.
“Let him go.”
Victor smiled.
“You sound like Thomas.”
“You killed him.”
“Thomas killed himself long before the car went over that rail. Guilt, weakness, indecision. I merely ended the performance.”
David’s hands curled into fists.
“Why?”
“Because he intended to confess.”
“To the adoption network?”
“To everything.”
Victor walked toward an old row of beds.
“Our family built hospitals, schools, shelters. We moved children from unsuitable women into homes that could provide opportunities.”
“You sold babies.”
“We corrected accidents of birth.”
Jonah spat blood onto the floor.
“You stole my life.”
Victor looked at him with disgust.
“You were never supposed to have one.”
David stepped forward.
Victor raised a gun.
“Stop.”
David stopped.
“Is Jonah your son?” he asked.
Victor’s expression changed only slightly.
“Elise made a mistake.”
“Your mistake.”
“She thought pregnancy gave her power. Evelyn showed her otherwise.”
“What happened to Elise?”
Victor glanced at Jonah.
“Thomas tried to help her escape. Evelyn confronted them at the lake house. There was a struggle.”
“Did you kill her?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Victor’s smile returned.
“That is the wrong question.”
Footsteps sounded faintly below.
Victor heard them.
His eyes moved toward David’s coat.
“You brought police.”
He fired.
The bullet tore through David’s shoulder and spun him into a bed frame.
Jonah threw himself sideways, crashing the chair into Victor’s legs. The gun fired again, shattering a window.
Hale’s team stormed the room.
Victor dragged Jonah upright and pressed the gun beneath his jaw.
“Back away!”
Officers froze.
David, bleeding, saw a loose metal pipe near his hand. He kicked it across the floor.
Jonah hooked it with his foot and drove it backward into Victor’s knee.
The gun discharged into the ceiling.
Officers tackled Victor.
For several seconds, the room became shouting, boots, splintered wood, and snow blowing through broken glass.
Then it was over.
Victor lay handcuffed on the floor.
Jonah stood free.
David pressed a hand to his shoulder.
Hale knelt beside him.
“Ambulance is coming.”
Victor began laughing.
David looked at him.
“What’s funny?”
“You think this ends with me?”
“It ends with all of you.”
Victor’s laughter faded.
“Ask your wife why Elise’s blood was in her hospital file.”
David stared.
“What?”
Victor turned his face toward the floor.
At that moment, David’s phone vibrated.
May you like
A message from Maya.
Do not trust Jonah. He knows who I really am.
