Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Red Coat
No one moved.
Not Gabriel.
Not the doctors.
Not the guards standing near the door.
Claire slowly reached for the glass of water, careful not to make any sudden movement. She held it near Lily’s hand but did not force it closer.
“You can hold it if you want,” Claire said.
Lily’s fingers trembled as she wrapped them around the cup.
The room watched her like witnesses at a miracle.
She brought the straw to her lips.
One sip.
Then another.
Dr. Nolan Price turned away for a moment, pretending to check the monitor, but Claire saw the relief on his face.
Gabriel did not speak.
His daughter had finally taken water, and yet he looked more frightened than before.
“The lady in the red coat,” he repeated at last.
Lily’s body stiffened.
Claire looked at him sharply.
“She’s not ready.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “That woman may be connected to my wife’s death.”
“And Lily may be the only witness,” Claire said. “If you push her, she’ll shut down again.”
The words came out before Claire could stop them.
She expected anger.
Instead, Gabriel stared at her for a long moment.
Then he gave one small nod.
“Fine,” he said. “You handle it.”
It was not kindness.
It was surrender.
---
Later that night, Claire was led to a guest suite on the opposite side of the penthouse. It had a bedroom, private bathroom, closet larger than her apartment kitchen, and a view of the Hudson River.
She stood in the center of the room, feeling absurdly out of place.
On the bed sat a cream envelope.
Inside was fifteen thousand dollars in neat stacks.
Claire stared at it.
Her mother’s treatment.
Rent.
Groceries.
Breathing room.
She should have felt relieved.
Instead, all she could think about was Lily’s face when she mentioned the woman in the red coat.
A knock came at the door.
Mara entered without waiting for an invitation.
“Mr. Varrick has asked that you remain overnight,” she said.
“I assumed that was part of the job.”
“It is now.”
Claire folded the envelope closed. “How is Lily?”
“She drank nearly half a cup of water and ate three spoonfuls of applesauce.”
Claire let out a breath.
“That’s good.”
“It is.” Mara studied her. “You said the lullaby was something you knew?”
“My mother sang it to me.”
Mara’s expression shifted, almost imperceptibly.
“Mrs. Varrick sang that lullaby too.”
Claire looked up.
“Lily’s mother?”
“Yes. Sofia Varrick used to sing it when Lily was upset.”
A chill moved through Claire.
“Did she know my mother?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then why did Lily say the woman in the red coat sang it?”
Mara’s mouth tightened.
“That is the question Mr. Varrick intends to answer.”
---
The next morning, Claire found Gabriel in Lily’s room.
The child was sitting on the rug with a box of wooden blocks. She was still weak, but she had eaten a few bites of oatmeal and drank more water during the night.
Claire stayed nearby, building a small tower with blocks while Lily watched.
Gabriel stood by the windows, speaking quietly into his phone.
“Find every woman connected to the route that day,” he said. “I don’t care if she drove an ambulance, delivered flowers, or cleaned the cars. Red coat. Lullaby. Start there.”
He ended the call and noticed Claire watching him.
“Do you have something to say?”
“Yes,” Claire replied.
His brow lifted.
“You need to stop treating this like an interrogation.”
“I’m trying to find who murdered my wife.”
“And I’m trying to stop your daughter from disappearing inside her own head.”
The room fell quiet.
Lily placed one block on top of another.
Gabriel looked toward her, then at Claire.
“What do you suggest?”
Claire had not expected him to ask.
She chose her words carefully.
“Let her control small things. Give her choices that feel safe. Blue cup or pink cup. Story or music. Sit on the bed or sit on the rug. Don’t demand answers.”
“And if she never tells us anything?”
“She will,” Claire said. “When she believes she won’t be punished for it.”
Gabriel’s gaze became unreadable.
“Was she punished before?”
Claire looked at Lily.
“I don’t know. But she is terrified that telling the truth will hurt someone.”
At that moment, Lily’s hand froze over a wooden block.
She looked at Gabriel.
Then quickly looked away.
Claire noticed.
So did Gabriel.
Before either could speak, the door opened.
A tall man in a black suit entered. He had a scar along his jaw and eyes that seemed permanently alert.
“Boss,” he said.
Gabriel stepped into the hallway with him, but Claire could still hear pieces of the conversation.
“We found a name.”
“Whose?”
“Celia Ward. Former household staff. She left two days before the attack.”
Claire heard Gabriel go still.
“Celia?” he said.
“She was wearing a red coat in security footage from the building garage the morning of the shooting.”
Gabriel’s voice dropped dangerously low.
“Bring her in.”
The man hesitated.
“There’s more.”
Gabriel turned.
“Speak.”
“Celia Ward isn’t just former staff.”
A pause.
“She used to work for Antonio Rusk.”
Claire heard the name, and even without understanding the criminal world around Gabriel Varrick, she felt the danger in the silence that followed.
Antonio Rusk.
Gabriel’s enemy.
The man who had been fighting him for control of the harbor routes.
The man rumored to have ordered the attack.
Inside the room, Lily began humming.
Claire’s lullaby.
But her voice shook on every note.
Then she whispered something so soft that Claire almost missed it.
“The red lady said Daddy would be mad if I told.”
Claire reached for Lily’s hand.
May you like
And in the hallway, Gabriel Varrick stopped breathing.
---
