The Child Who Recognized the Wolf Tattoo

CHAPTER 2 - A DEAD MAN'S BRACELET

Elena had not seen that bracelet in thirteen years.

Not since the summer Luca vanished.

Her knees nearly gave way.

"Where did you get that?" she asked.

The man followed her gaze and looked down at the worn brown leather band beneath his watch. His expression changed again, from shock to something heavier. Guilt, maybe. Or memory.

"My brother gave it to me," he said quietly. "The day before he disappeared."

Elena stared at him. "They told me his body was found."

His jaw tightened. "Closed casket. River damage. My mother made the identification from his ring and clothes."

Sofia looked up between them, frightened by words she was too young to understand. Elena knelt and smoothed the girl's cardigan.

"It's okay, mi amor," she said, though her own hands were cold.

The man glanced at the two guards behind him. "Go upstairs. Cancel my next meeting."

"Mr. Marlowe?" one asked.

"Now."

They left without another word.

Elena noticed that. Money or power, probably. But that wasn't what mattered.

"I'm Elena Reyes," she said, standing again.

"Adrian Marlowe."

Luca had spoken of a younger brother once. A stubborn boy who sketched wolves in the margins of schoolbooks. She had never met him. Back then, Luca had been trying to build his own life, far from his wealthy family and their expectations.

Adrian looked at Sofia. His eyes softened in a way that made Elena's chest ache. "How old are you?"

"Seven."

He frowned. "Seven?"

Elena understood at once what he was counting.

"Sofia was born early," she said. "Months after Luca disappeared."

The wind moved through the street, lifting the edge of her cream coat. She remembered the hospital room. The silence. The pitying looks. The official call saying Luca was gone.

Adrian swallowed hard. "My brother was never reckless. He wouldn't have left a pregnant woman unless he had no choice."

Elena had told herself the same thing for years.

Then Adrian asked the question she had stopped asking out loud.

"Do you still have anything from him? Letters, messages, drawings?"

Elena almost said no.

Then she remembered the old envelope in her kitchen drawer. The one she had never opened because Luca's handwriting on the front had been enough to destroy her every time.

She looked at Adrian.

"There is one letter," she said.

Adrian's face drained of color.

"Then don't open it alone," he said. "Because yesterday someone sent me a photo of Luca."