Chapter 8 - The Breaking Point
By morning, Luke and my men had cleared the house.
Six intruders dead. One captured for questioning.
The traitor turned out to be a junior guard who owed Rossi a favor.
He was dealt with.
But the atmosphere in the estate changed.
I doubled the guards. I barely slept.
Emma was traumatized, but she insisted on working.
"I need the routine," she told me when I tried to send her home with pay.
A week later, the real hit came. Not from a gun, but from a phone call.
She was serving me dinner when her phone rang.
It was the memory-care facility.
I watched her face drain of all color.
"What do you mean she wandered out?" Emma's voice cracked.
"How did she get past the front desk?"
She listened for a moment, her breathing turning shallow.
"Is she safe? ... Okay. I'll be right there."
She hung up and dropped the phone.
"My mom," she choked out. "She got out. The police found her three blocks away, freezing. The facility says they can't handle her anymore. They're kicking her out."
The despair in her eyes was absolute.
"I have nowhere to put her, Danny. I don't have the money for a better place."
She had called me Danny. Not Mr. Romano.
"Get your coat," I said, spinning my chair toward the door.
May you like
"Where are we going?"
"To pick up your mother."
