Chapter 11 - The House in the Photograph
They entered the old house before dawn.
The rooms were dusty.
The furniture remained untouched.
But the kitchen was clean.
Fresh coffee sat beside the sink.
Someone had been living there.
Rafe found old documents.
Sloan found medicine.
The same medication used to make Rafe sick.
Then they found a bedroom.
The bed was recently used.
On the wall hung a photograph of Rafe at seventeen.
Someone had circled his face.
Rafe stared.
“I remember this.”
Sloan looked at him.
“What?”
“My father took this photograph.”
A floorboard creaked.
Sloan turned.
Nobody.
Then a voice came from the hallway.
“You always were stubborn.”
Rafe froze.
A man stepped into the light.
Older.
Gray-haired.
But unmistakably alive.
Alessandro Castellano.
Rafe stared at his father.
“You're dead.”
Alessandro smiled.
“That's what I wanted everyone to believe.”
Sloan reached for her weapon.
Alessandro raised his hands.
“If I wanted you dead, Sloan, you wouldn't have made it through the gate.”
She stopped.
“How do you know my name?”
“I know everything.”
Rafe stepped forward.
“Why?”
“Because I built this family.”
“You destroyed it.”
Alessandro's expression hardened.
“No. I tested it.”
He claimed he had never intended to kill Rafe.
He wanted to see whether his son could survive without him.
But Sloan didn't believe him.
Because the medication beside the bed proved one thing.
Alessandro had crossed a line.
Rafe looked at his father.
“You made me sick.”
Alessandro answered:
“I made you weak.”
May you like
Rafe's fists tightened.
And Sloan realized the final confrontation had already begun.
