Page 88 of Dark Heart


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“Your phone number, name, and address. Are they public?”

A smile flutters across my lips.

“No, not really. Why?”

“The men from last night. They know who you are.”

“They’ve seen me a couple of times and know my first name, but they have no idea who I am. No one knows. I’ve worked diligently to hide my business and personal affairs from my family and everybody else. So no, I can’t be tracked down. Nobody knows where I live. And except for the staff members, one of my employees, and now you, nobody has ever come to my house. Rest assured, they can’t find you.”

“It’s not about me... I don’t care if they find me,” he deadpans, motioning to the box.

“I need you to take the cash to the address on that piece of paper.”

“What’s this?” I ask, wrapping my fingers around the roll of cash.

“The money you gave me.”

I glance at him.

“Who do I give it to?” I ask, intrigued at first, then grappling with a bad feeling.

“Her name is...”

He pauses, shifts his position, and winces again, and I suspect he’s also buying some time while gauging my reaction.

His eyes stay on me a little longer.

”Her name is Sara,” he finally says, his eyes bleeding sorrow.

It hurts me to see him like that, and it’s a new inexplicable feeling.

It feels like grief.

Slowly, he turns his head and glances at the Christmas tree.

“If it’s not too much... Can you buy a Christmas present for a little girl? With money from that stash.”

A hole grows in my chest, and I’m about to fall into it.

“Sure,” I say, my voice unraveling.

“What do you want me to buy?” I ask, evading his eyes and making myself busy with the stuff on the counter, trying to hide my trembling hands.

“Whatever you think a three-old would like. Her name is Emma.”

His voice shakes a little as he utters her name, and my knees are about to give in.

I look at him.

His eyes glint with emotion, veiled by the mist of tears. A lump forms in my throat.

I glance away again, grappling with my own feelings, when the doorbell rings.

Just in time.

I dart to the door, bring the food inside and set it on the coffee table.

“You can start eating. I have to change my clothes before I leave,” I say.

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