Page 72 of Lorenzo

She studies me across the table. “You fired me fifteen minutes ago.”

Alessio snorts.

Edoardo’s mouth quirks up, almost in a smile.

I hold Donna’s gaze. “I've since reconsidered.”

“Are you sure? You were pretty upset.”

She does not look apologetic, but she does look tired now that the urgency that brought her here has passed.

“I am still,” I tell her. “One has nothing to do with the other.”

“Good.” She adjusts the bag on her shoulder. “Then we understand each other.”

“We do,” I say. “Locate Rachel Monroe.”

Donna turns toward the door with Mocha beside her.

“And then call me.”

She pauses for a moment, then continues walking out of the room, carrying the first real chance we have had to clear my son since the police came to take him away.

Rachel Monroe is alive.

Now we have to find her before the people who curated this lie decide she has lived too long.

Chapter Ten

Donna

The police tape across Genevieve Sorel’s apartment door is still intact when I arrive.

I stand at the end of the hallway for a moment and look at it.

The building is quiet at this hour. A television murmurs in one apartment. Somewhere farther down, water runs through old pipes. The elevator closed behind me less than a minute ago, but no one has come out to see who stepped off.

I walk toward Genevieve’s apartment without hurrying.

The lock has already been opened by police, probably more than once. The frame shows no damage, which means they had a key or someone let them inside. The narrow strip of tape is fixed between the door and the wall, positioned to make any entry obvious.

It would stop a neighbor.

It would not stop me.

I take a pair of gloves from my jacket pocket and put them on before crouching near the bottom hinge. The tape matters less than the adhesive holding it in place. I work carefully, lifting one edge without stretching or tearing it.

This is easier than the Halston.

No electronic lock. No cameras in the hallway that I could see when I came up. No hotel employees trained to notice a woman who does not belong.

Just a locked apartment and a taped warning that I am not supposed to enter.

I ease the tape free from the door, leaving the end attached to the wall.

The lock takes less than a minute.

I slip inside and close the door behind me.