Chapter 5 - The Man Wearing My Father’s Name
My father, Anthony Rossi, died in a restaurant explosion when I was nineteen.
I saw the building burn.
I identified his watch.
The body was too damaged for visual confirmation, but dental records matched.
My mother buried him beside the Rossi chapel.
Now someone had entered Grace’s hospital under his name.
The badge photograph showed a middle aged man wearing glasses and a surgical mask.
His face remained partly hidden.
The credential system accepted him because a temporary technician profile had been created through hospital administration.
The authorizing email came from Dr. Ferri’s office.
The technician installed the camera aimed at Grace’s room, then left before federal security arrived.
He touched no medical equipment.
He took no records.
He wanted someone outside the hospital to watch.
The live feed in the caretaker’s house suggested Dominic or his captor had been monitoring her.
Mara searched the house for fingerprints.
Dominic’s were everywhere.
Another set belonged to Vincent Caruso.
The missing family lawyer had been there recently.
Blood from the vehicle matched Vincent.
Blood inside the caretaker’s house did not.
It belonged to Dominic.
Both men may have reached the location after leaving the estate.
One injured the other.
Or a third person controlled them both.
Grace’s contractions continued.
I remained beside her while investigators worked.
Every few minutes, she looked toward the door.
“Do you think Isabella can reach us?”
“No.”
“You said that about the estate.”
I accepted the blow.
“I did.”
Her eyes filled.
“I do not know how to believe any room is safe.”
I moved my chair away from the bed.
“You do not have to believe me immediately.”
“Matteo.”
“I will tell you who enters. I will ask before anyone touches you. I will not decide safety for you.”
The tension in her shoulders eased slightly.
That was all trust allowed that day.
Mara brought the Continuity Household documents to a federal forensic team.
The children listed under false names were traced slowly.
Some were adults.
Some had died.
Three were alive and unaware of their original identities.
One was Lucia Rossi.
My aunt.
She lived in Maine under the name Lucy Bennett.
She had been adopted at six by a family connected to Vincent Caruso.
Lucy remembered very little from the Rossi estate.
She remembered a red dress.
A locked bedroom.
A woman crying outside a door.
She remembered being told her mother did not want her.
Her mother had been Isabella’s older sister, Elena Rossi.
Family history said Elena died from pneumonia.
The records showed she was declared unstable after challenging my grandfather’s trust.
She disappeared into a private hospital.
No death certificate could be verified.
Isabella grew up watching the council remove her sister and niece.
Instead of destroying the system, she learned to control it.
That did not excuse her.
It explained the precision.
Isabella knew which medical language to use.
Which documents to replace.
Which men to pay.
Which fears would isolate Grace.
She had spent a lifetime studying the method that once destroyed her own family.
Mara interviewed her again.
“Did you help remove Lucia?”
“I was seventeen.”
“Did you know where your sister went?”
“No.”
“Did you later search?”
“My father said Elena was dangerous.”
“You believed him?”
“I believed the child was safer.”
“Is that what you told yourself about Grace?”
Isabella’s face hardened.
“Grace found records she could not understand.”
“She understood that you planned to take her baby.”
“The boy cannot be raised by a woman who would expose the family.”
“Why not?”
“Because exposure invites enemies.”
Mara placed a photograph of the cage before her.
“You became the enemy.”
For the first time, Isabella looked away.
She still refused to name the Steward or council members.
Then Mara mentioned Anthony’s hospital badge.
My mother’s head lifted.
“Anthony is dead.”
“Someone used his identity.”
“Where?”
“Near Grace.”
Fear entered her face before she concealed it.
That reaction was genuine.
“Who would use his name?” Mara asked.
Isabella requested her attorney.
Before the interview ended, she whispered one sentence.
“If the Steward is using Anthony, he no longer needs me.”
The council had turned against her.
At the hospital, Grace’s monitor alarm sounded.
Emilia entered with nurses.
The baby’s heart rate had dropped during a contraction.
It recovered, then fell again.
“We may need to deliver tonight.”
Grace gripped my hand.
Before Emilia could explain further, the hospital lights went dark.
Emergency power returned after three seconds.
A nurse checked the medication cabinet.
One vial was missing.
Oxytocin.
A drug capable of intensifying labor.
May you like
Someone had entered the room during the power interruption.
Continue to the next part: Grace’s labor accelerates after someone steals medication from the secured maternity floor.
