Chapter 13 - The Setup At St. Jude’s Pier
"What do you mean, almost?" I looked at him.
Adrian reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out an old, weathered brass key.
"Danny didn't just leave a micro-film ledger, Emily."
My brow furrowed.
"What is that?"
"Danny had a safety deposit box at the Manhattan Trust on 42nd Street."
"He registered it under your name."
"Three days before he died, he sent me this key."
"He told me that if anything happened to him, I was only to give it to you when
Sal was behind bars."
Adrian placed the brass key in my palm.
It was heavy.
Real.
"What's inside?" I asked.
"I don't know," Adrian said. "It's yours."
Leo drove us across the Manhattan Bridge as the morning rush hour began.
The city was waking up.
Yellow cabs honked on the avenue.
People rushed into subway stations with their morning coffees.
Normal life.
Ordinary people living ordinary days.
For the first time in three years, I didn't feel like a ghost walking among
them.
We arrived at the Manhattan Trust building at 9:00 AM sharp.
Adrian walked beside me through the marble halls.
The bank manager took the key and led us down into the subterranean vault.
A massive steel door swung open.
Box number 317.
My breath hitched.
The box number was 317.
The bank manager unlocked the metal compartment and slid the long steel tray
out.
He bowed politely and left the private viewing room.
Adrian stood by the door, turning his back to give me privacy.
I lifted the lid of the metal box.
Inside sat a thick leather-bound journal.
And a cassette tape.
Beside the tape was a velvet jewelry pouch.
I opened the pouch first.
A small silver necklace tumbled out into my palm.
A delicate pendant shaped like an anchor.
Danny had bought it for my eighteenth birthday, but he had lost it before he
could give it to me.
He hadn't lost it.
He had saved it here.
May you like
I pressed the silver pendant to my lips and wept silently.
Tears of grief, but also profound, unshakeable peace.
