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“Come, sit.” Maggie moves us to a booth and gets two menus. “Order something to eat, and we’ll talk.”
Maggie lets us eat, and her cafe makes a fantastic old-fashioned farm-style breakfast. Maggie walks over to us and sits beside Isabella. I see Isabella stiffen and move over.
“That was an amazing breakfast, Maggie,” I compliment.
Maggie nods and looks at me. “So, Belov, are you ready to talk?”
I nod and glance at Isabella. She’s still stiff and angry. “Princess, right now we need all the help we can get and like everyone else in your life, your father didn’t want anyone telling you who you really were.”
Isabella nods as one of the big brutes from the kitchen walks out to take our plates. “Bring two warm apple pies with marshmallow cream,” Maggie orders. He nods and disappears.
For the next twenty minutes we discuss the best route to get Isabella and me to our destination. Maggie squeezes Isabella’s hand. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you everything, kitten.” She smiles.
Isabella nods and hugs Maggie. “Thank you for helping us.”
“Of course,” Maggie says, her eyes meeting mine over Isabella’s head. “I’ll leave the two of you alone.”
Maggie leaves and I slide into the booth next to Isabella. “It’s going to be okay.”
I move a stray lock behind her ear. My heart squeezes in my chest.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” she whispers, and we lean our foreheads together. “For the first time, I’m petrified. I still think it best to stick together.”
“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” I lift her chin and kiss her. “I can’t continue if I don’t know you’re safe.” I smile reassuringly even though I don’t feel it. “Until I know who we can trust…” I swallow. “This is the only way. Maggie assures us that Temur is the one person we can trust.”
We look across the street and see the shelter being opened. I kiss Isabella again.
“I’d better go,” Isabella gives me a small smile. “Be careful.” She kisses me.
I nod and watch Isabella rush out of the cafe and cross the road. She rings a bell at the shelter. A few minutes later, the door swings open, and the woman who unlocked the place steps out and hugs Isabella.
Before Isabella steps inside, she turns toward me and waves. Frowning, I sip my lukewarm coffee as Isabella disappears inside the building, closing the door behind her. The gesture has a hint of finality to it. I shake it off, and Maggie brings another piece of pie.
When Isabella’s safely in the shelter I take out the burner and send a message to Temur.
Need to talk. I’m at a place called Maggie’s Cafe.
Five minutes later, he responds.
I’ll be there in twenty minutes.
Maggie walks over and hands me a file.
“I printed off those records for you,” Maggies tells me. “More coffee?”
“No thank you, Maggie, I’m fine.”
“Call if you need anything,” she tells me.
“Thanks. Temur is on his way.”
She nods and walks off.
While I’m waiting for him I go over my father’s medical records that Temur somehow managed to get his hands on and Maggie has printed for me.
The initial reports seem routine—notes from his doctors, lab results, and scans. They detail the heart attack he suffered two years ago and the complications that followed. But something feels off. I’ve seen hundreds of medical records in my career, and these don’t add up. The language is too vague, the descriptions too generic, almost as if someone was trying to hide something.
I delve deeper, my eyes narrowing as I come across a scan taken shortly before he was put on life support. It’s a brain scan, and there it is—a shadow on the left side of his brain, right where the hemorrhage supposedly occurred. But the shadow is faint, almost too faint. It’s as if someone had tampered with the image, trying to make it look like a natural bleed but not doing a thorough job.
