“No.” Should I have?
“Fiona was fine until she saw the brand. Now she’s trying to get Maddox to throw us off Willow Street. And muttering about how Hope and Milia are in danger.”
None of this makes sense. “From a child?”
“That brand means something.”
“Gangs sometimes tattoo or brand the people they claim to own.” Fiona must have known the gang.
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“Tell Maddox to increase security. I can be there in a half an hour.”
“She already did that. She demanded a full lockdown. And that his men bring every one of the kids back homeindividually. Finish what you’re doing. Everyone is safe here. Fiona is in with the kid now so you couldn’t even see her. They probably be in the clinic for hours.”
My woman is calm in times of stress. She doesn’t freak out or do crazy things because she’s scared…she’s more likely to run into danger.
“Got it!” Everett shouts, holding up the phone.
“We might have just found something. Are you sure I shouldn’t come back?”
“Do what you need to do, Son. I’ve got things under control here.”
That I can trust. My father won’t let anything happen to family.
I click off and turn to Everett. “What did you find?” We’ve got to get this done fast so I can get back to Fiona.
“There’s no record of another girl being born on that day in the same hospital as your mom.”
So she wasn’t lying.
“But there were three other women that gave birth there the same day. One of them is in this nursing home…” Everett hacked the nursing home already…impressive.
“Do you have a room number?”
The boy nods. “She’s three stories up.”
“Let’s get to it.”
A few minutes later, Everett knocks on another room door.
“Come in,” a sweet old woman says.
“Ms. South?” I step in with Everett by my side.
“Yes, that’s me.” The old woman gives us a sweet smile from where she is in the hospital bed, covered in a homemade quilt.
“My name is Massimo Vincenti, and this is my brother Everett.”
“Do I know you boys?”
“No, ma’am. But we’re hoping you can help us find out about his mother.”
Her face softens. “Oh, you poor boy. Everyone should know their mother. I don’t know if I can help, but I’ll try.”
“You gave birth at the same hospital on the same day as our mothers were born. We’re wondering if you remember anything about this woman.” I walk over to her bed and hold up my phone with a picture of our grandmother.
She takes the phone from my hand and stares at it for a while. “I remember her. She was in terrible pain during the birth. She yelled at everyone, from the doctors to the cleaners. She had a beautiful little girl that day. She had the thickest head of white hair I’ve ever seen on a baby. Usually, babies that are born with blonde hair don’t have much of it. But that baby was born with a full head of hair. She was the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen.”
