24. Liana
— ? —
Liana
Bianca was out of the car before I had the engine off.
She ran up the front steps of the compound with her backpack bouncing against her shoulders. Rina was already at the door, arms open, that wide smile she saved only for my daughter.
I watched Bianca crash into her.
“Rina, Mama says I can stay until dinner.” Bianca was tugging on Rina’s sleeve, her small fingers twisting in the fabric. “Can we make the cookies? The ones with the chocolate pieces?”
“We can make whatever you want, piccola.” Rina cupped Bianca’s face in her weathered hands and kissed both her cheeks. “But first, lunch. You’re too skinny.”
“Mama says I’m not skinny. She says I’m tall for my age.”
“Your mama is too soft on you. She always has been.”
“I’ll be back around five.” I kept my voice light. “Call me if she needs anything.”
“Come here, piccola.” Rina smoothed Bianca’s hair back from her forehead. “Say goodbye to Mama and then we’ll go find those strawberries I saved for you.”
Bianca ran back to me and threw her arms around my legs. I crouched down and pulled her close, feeling her small heart beating against my chest, breathing in the smell of her shampoo.
“I love you, Mama.” She pressed her face into my neck, her words muffled against my skin.
“I love you too, baby.” I held her tighter than I needed to. “So much.”
“Are you coming back soon?” She pulled away and looked at me, her fingers finding a strand of my hair and twisting it the way she always did when she was worried. “You’ll be here when the cookies are done?”
“I’ll be here before the cookies are done.” I tucked the strand of hair behind her ear. “I promise.”
“Okay.” She nodded seriously, then brightened. “I’m going to save you the biggest one. With the most chocolate.”
“That’s my girl.”
She kissed my cheek, then ran back to Rina and grabbed her hand. Rina looked at me one more time, her eyes full of things she wasn’t saying, and then she let Bianca pull her toward the kitchen.
I watched them disappear around the corner.
The smart thing would have been to turn around. Walk back to my car. Drive away. Come back at five like I said I would and not spend a single extra minute in this house.
My feet went the wrong direction.
I was almost to the front entrance when I heard the voices.
His study door was open a few inches.
“Off a route only six people knew existed.”
My feet stopped moving. My hand found the wall beside me.
“Then it’s one of the six.” Dominic sounded tired.
“It’s not one of the six.” A chair scraped against the floor. Stefan pacing. “I’d put my life on every one of them, Dom. I’ve known these men for twenty years.”
“Someone is talking. Cargo doesn’t vanish on its own.”
“I know someone is talking.” Stefan’s footsteps crossed the room. “I just can’t figure out who. Every time I trace a lead, it goes nowhere. It’s like chasing smoke.”
I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall.
The old itch was starting. The thing I’d never been able to turn off. Patterns forming in my head before I asked them to. Pieces clicking into place without my permission.
Six people knew the route. Stefan trusted all six. The hits were too precise, too consistent, too perfectly timed to be luck.
Which meant they weren’t looking at the right thing at all.
“We’ve gone through the crew lists a dozen times.” Stefan’s voice was closer to the door now. “Everyone who touched those manifests. Everyone who knew the timing. They’re clean, or they’re hiding it better than anyone I’ve ever seen.”
“Then we go through them again.”
“Dom.” Stefan exhaled hard. “I’ve been doing this for thirty years. I know when I’m looking in the wrong place. This isn’t about who knew the route.”
“Then what is it about?”
I pushed the door open before I could stop myself.
Both of them turned. Stefan was half out of his chair, his hand already moving toward his hip before his brain caught up with his eyes. Dominic was behind the desk, papers scattered in front of him, and his whole body went still when he saw me in the doorway.
Nobody spoke.
“You’re both looking at the wrong thing.”
Stefan’s eyebrows rose. He eased back into his chair but kept his eyes on me. “Liana. Didn’t know you were still here.”
“I was leaving.” I took a step into the room. My feet had made the decision for me. “But you’re asking the wrong question.”
“What question should we be asking?” Dominic’s voice was careful. Neutral in a way that told me he was working to keep it that way.
“You’re trying to figure out who knew the route.” I looked at him instead of Stefan. “Six people knew the old route. None of them knew the new ones until the trucks rolled. So it isn’t the six.”
“Then where’s the leak?”
“Think about what you do when you lose a shipment.” I watched his face as I said it. “You reroute. Change the timing. Stay unpredictable. Standard protocol.”
Stefan shifted in his chair. “That’s basic operational security. Anyone would-”
“Exactly.” I cut him off. “Anyone who knows him would expect that. You lost three weeks ago. You shifted routes. Changed the timing. And they hit you anyway.”
“You’re not looking for someone who knew the old route.” I could feel my brain working now, the pieces sliding together. “You’re looking for someone who sees the new route before the trucks do. Someone close enough to be in the room when you change it.”
Stefan swore under his breath. His hand came up to rub his jaw, and I saw the exhaustion there. The weeks of frustration finally making sense.
Dominic hadn’t moved. He was looking at me the way he used to. Before all of it. Before Angela.
He was looking at me like I was the sharpest thing in the building.
“Why don’t you have a look at this?” Dominic said, shoving the pile of papers toward me.
“This isn’t my family anymore.” I stepped back toward the door. “Solve your own leak.”
Dominic was around the desk and moving toward me. “Wait.”
I didn’t wait. My feet carried me into the hall. His footsteps followed.
“You just saw something we’ve missed for weeks.” He was beside me now, matching my pace. “You walked in and you cracked it in thirty seconds.”
“Then you should have been looking harder.” I kept moving toward the front door.
“I’ve been looking everywhere.” His voice was strained. “Every direction except the one you just pointed.”
“That sounds like a you problem.” The front door was ten feet away. Then five.
“Who fits what you just described?” He stepped in front of me, blocking my path to the door. Not grabbing me. Not crowding me. Just standing there with his hands at his sides. “You saw the pattern. So who fits it?”
“I told you what to look for.” I held his gaze. “Someone close enough to be in the room when you move the pieces. Someone whose hand is on the paper.”
“That’s a short list.”
“Then it shouldn’t take you long.”
I stepped around him and reached for the door.
His voice stopped me with my hand on the knob. “Thank you.”
I didn’t turn around. “For what?”
“For seeing it. Even though you didn’t have to. Even though this isn’t-” He stopped. Started again. “Even though you don’t owe us anything anymore.”
My hand tightened on the doorknob.
“Bianca lives in this world.” I pulled the door open. “That makes it my problem whether I want it or not.”