She has moved the document.But the safe is still in the apartment.
I am the worst version of myself right now — exhausted, rewrapped, just had a woman fall asleep on my arm who told me she is mine.
The detective wins.
I find the closet. Find the panel. The keypad is biometric; I work the housing loose. The safe opens manually with a small lever inside.
Almost empty.
A single folded sheet of paper at the back. Not the document. Something she did not move because moving it would have told me she had something in here besides the document.
I unfold it.
A hand-drawn family tree. Nadia's handwriting.
Vittorio Antonio Moretti. Deceased. Maria Isabella Moretti. Deceased.
Three sons.
Alessandro Moretti. Born March 3, 1984. Matteo Moretti. Born February 12, 1988. Luca Moretti. Born September 17, 1992.
I stop.
February 12, 1988, is my birthday.
Margaret Voss told me last night there were two of us. Twin boys. Fraternal. Different faces, same hour.
I have a brother.
He has been in this city the entire time.
I refold the paper. Put it back. Close the safe, reset the housing. I leave the closet exactly as I found it.
I get back under the covers.
She makes a small sound and fits against me again. Her hand finds my chest and stays there.
She is going to know I looked. The moment she opens her eyes and reads it on my face, the way she has read every other thing on my face since the warehouse.
She is going to let me look anyway.
My phone vibrateson the nightstand at 11:42 a.m.
CAPTAIN SULLIVAN.
IA wants to talk. Someone filed a complaint about the Moretti investigation. Came from inside their legal team. Get to the precinct.
I read it twice.
I look at the woman asleep on my chest. I look at the bedroom door, behind which is the kitchen, behind which is the safe, behind which is a family tree with a name on it that shares my birthday. I look at the phone in my hand, with a message from my captain saying the Moretti legal team has just moved against me.
The Moretti legal team.
I look at her sleeping face.
She has moved the document. Someone inside the Moretti legal machine just put Internal Affairs on my back. She has done both of those things. And then she has let me into her bed. And let me put my hand on her throat. And told me she is mine.
She is going to wake up and look at me like nothing has happened.
