Chapter 9 - THE ROOM BENEATH ST. AGNES
-9
St. Agnes had burned badly but not completely.
Its main building had been condemned and fenced for two decades.
Trees grew through portions of the courtyard.
Windows boarded.
Roof collapsed in one wing.
The basement survived.
Repository 7B survived too.
Federal agents approached covertly.
Sebastian insisted on joining.
Mara threatened bodily harm.
He went anyway.
I stayed in a mobile command vehicle half a mile away with Nora.
Progress.
Luca believed I was inside an approaching sedan.
It contained a federal agent wearing a dark coat and wig seen only through distant surveillance.
The car stopped.
No one exited.
Minutes passed.
Then lights appeared inside St. Agnes.
Luca was there.
Mara’s team intercepted a radio signal.
One person.
Maybe more.
Sebastian entered with tactical team through the service tunnel Nora once used to escape with me.
She remembered the route.
That was strange.
My mother guiding men into the building where my father died while I watched body-camera feeds on monitors.
History replaying with documentation.
The blue door still existed.
Paint charred.
My breath stopped when camera passed.
Memory hit.
My father’s hands.
My mother crying.
Someone shouting.
A gunshot.
I gasped.
Nora grabbed my hand.
This time, I did not pull away.
“What?”
“I remember.”
“What?”
“Dad pushed us behind the door.”
She cried.
“Yes.”
“He told you to run.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t we?”
“You wouldn’t leave him.”
I had clung to the doorway.
My father came back.
Gave me pendant.
Then Alistair arrived.
Voices.
I remembered Alistair’s face faintly.
Not violence.
Anger.
Then another man behind him.
Young.
Dark hair.
Luca.
He had been there earlier than he claimed.
I stared at screen.
“Luca was there.”
Nora froze.
“What?”
“I remember him.”
She shook her head.
“No. He came later.”
“No.”
Memory sharpened.
Luca at end of hallway.
Holding something silver.
Maybe gun.
“Mom.”
She stared.
“I didn’t see him.”
“You were looking at Dad.”
Could Luca have fired?
If Alistair and Gabriel both drew guns, maybe third shooter?
I called Mara.
“Tell Sebastian Luca was present before the shot.”
“What?”
“Tell him now.”
She relayed.
Inside basement, Luca’s voice echoed.
He was talking.
Not visible yet.
“You came, Seb.”
Sebastian answered:
“You invited Valerie.”
“She smarter than you?”
“Usually.”
Despite terror, I almost smiled.
Luca stepped into view.
Older concrete chamber.
Burned shelves.
He held a gun.
And a metal case.
“What’s in case?” Sebastian asked.
“The part Gabriel never got out.”
“What?”
“Original Lark intake recordings.”
My skin crawled.
Luca had hidden them here?
No.
He found them recently.
They documented parents consenting, refusing, being coerced.
Potential evidence.
Then Luca said:
“Your girl wants to know who killed Daddy.”
My stomach tightened.
Sebastian’s face went cold.
“Do not call her that.”
“Touchy.”
“Answer.”
Luca smiled.
“Alistair.”
But I remembered Luca.
Mara whispered:
“He’s lying.”
I leaned toward microphone.
Sebastian could hear only Mara, not me directly.
“Ask him why he was already in the hallway.”
Mara relayed.
Sebastian did.
Luca’s smile disappeared.
“What?”
“Valerie remembers you.”
Silence.
That was the first real crack.
“She was five.”
“Children remember fear.”
Luca’s gun lowered slightly.
Then he laughed.
“Fine.”
My heartbeat thundered.
He admitted being there.
Why?
Alan? no, wrong story. Gideon sent him? Alistair’s security.
Luca was nineteen.
Young Ward soldier.
He had been ordered to watch corridor.
Gabriel pulled gun.
Alistair pulled.
Luca panicked.
He fired.
The shot hit Gabriel.
My father.
I stopped breathing.
Nora screamed beside me.
Luca continued over feed.
“Alistair thought he fired.”
Sebastian stared.
“What?”
“The guns went off almost together.”
Two shots?
Nora remembered one.
Maybe echo.
Gabriel had one wound?
Old records unavailable.
Luca said his bullet killed Gabriel.
Alistair’s missed.
Then why hide it?
Because Alistair believed he killed Gabriel and carried guilt.
Luca let him.
Leverage.
He used that guilt later.
Used Caroline’s death.
Used Lark.
Built power by collecting other people’s sins—including ones he secretly created.
That explained everything.
Luca did not merely inherit Black Key-like system, he engineered culpability.
Alistair thought he killed Gabriel.
Sebastian inherited shame.
Gideon suspected Alistair.
Nora believed Alistair.
Everyone pointed away from Luca.
Perfect.
“How did Caroline die?” Sebastian asked.
Luca smiled.
“You know.”
“Say it.”
“I changed her medication.”
There.
“Why?”
“She was taking you away.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened.
“To protect me.”
“She was destroying your inheritance.”
“Good.”
Luca laughed.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do now.”
Then:
“And Alistair?”
“Same principle.”
“He was going federal.”
“Yes.”
“You poisoned him.”
“Yes.”
Clean confession.
Mara closed her eyes.
Evidence.
Luca continued.
“Your family built a kingdom and then developed morals when it became inconvenient.”
Sebastian answered:
“No.”
Pause.
“They developed morals too late.”
That distinction mattered.
“Still better than never.”
Luca’s face hardened.
Then he asked:
“Where is Valerie?”
“Safe.”
“You think she’s safe after this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you no longer know where she is.”
There.
Control broken.
Luca raised his weapon.
Federal agents shouted.
He fired first.
Chaos.
Then silence.
Luca was hit.
Alive.
Shoulder and leg.
Arrested.
I exhaled so violently I felt dizzy.
Nora cried.
Not for Luca.
For Gabriel.
Thirty years of wrong blame.
Alistair Ward had not fired the fatal shot.
Still culpable.
Still part of system.
But not my father’s killer.
A nineteen-year-old Luca Ferretti had killed him and then built a career from everyone else’s guilt.
Agents recovered the metal case.
Recordings.
One labeled:
LARK 7.
My childhood.
I did not want to watch.
Then I did.
On screen, my mother sat in a small room with Gabriel.
I was asleep against his chest.
A younger Gideon stood nearby.
Gabriel said:
“If I don’t get out, Nora takes Valerie.”
Gideon:
“I can move them.”
Gabriel:
“No Ward names.”
Gideon nodded.
Then Alistair entered.
Not violent yet.
Exhausted.
“Give me the ledger.”
Gabriel:
“No.”
“Luca is moving children again.”
“So stop him.”
“I need proof.”
“You need courage.”
The argument.
Then Gabriel said something I never expected.
“Sebastian is still a child.”
Alistair looked away.
“Caroline wanted him out.”
“Yes.”
“Help me get him out.”
My father was still trying to save Sebastian.
Even in final minutes.
Then alarm sounded outside recording.
Luca perhaps.
Gabriel stood.
Video ended before shooting.
Another recording after.
Nora.
Crying.
Gideon.
Holding her shoulders.
Alistair in background covered in blood that was not his.
He whispered:
“I killed him.”
Luca stood behind him.
Silent.
Nineteen.
Watching.
That was the moment he learned the true power of secrets.
Let someone believe the worst thing about himself.
Then own what he does to hide it.
My father’s death became the foundation of Luca’s ascent.
I turned off the monitor.
Nora whispered:
“I blamed Alistair.”
“You had reason.”
“I told Gideon never to tell Sebastian.”
“Why?”
“I thought he would hate you if he knew his father killed yours.”
I almost laughed through tears.
“He didn’t.”
“No.”
“You were wrong.”
“Yes.”
Her willingness to say it mattered.
Then Sebastian called me from inside St. Agnes.
“Valerie.”
“I’m here.”
“It was Luca.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
“Still too broad.”
He exhaled.
Then:
“For bringing you into a world where your father already died once.”
I closed my eyes.
“You didn’t bring me.”
“What?”
“Luca arranged the room.”
“Yes.”
“But Keene was right.”
I swallowed.
“He could put us in the same place. He couldn’t make us choose what happened after.”
Silence.
Then Sebastian said:
“I would like to make some better choices.”
Not promise.
Not romantic speech.
Better.
“What’s first?”
He looked around the burned basement.
“End Lark.”
“And second?”
“End the part of the Ward organization that requires men like Luca.”
“That sounds like most of it.”
“Yes.”
I smiled sadly.
“Good luck.”
Then he said:
“And third, if you still want anything to do with me after this—”
“Sebastian.”
“Yes?”
“Come back alive first.”
May you like
For once, he listened.
“Okay.”
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