Chapter 11 - The Second Frame
Resting on the corner of the vast executive desk, surrounded by leather-bound ledgers and gold pens, was a small silver picture frame.
Leo paused, his arm frozen in mid-air.
He crept around the edge of the leather chair, keeping his eyes on the sleeping man, and reached the desk. He looked down at the photograph inside the silver frame.
It was a picture of a little girl.
She was about six years old, with bright red hair pulled into pig-tails, wearing a yellow raincoat, laughing happily as she splashed in a puddle. Across the bottom of the photo, in messy, childlike handwriting, was written: To Daddy, Love Maya.
Leo stared at the photo.
His breath caught in his throat. His mind reeled backward, smashing through the terrifying darkness of the past few hours, back to the golden hour in the bakery on Elm Street.
Take it to your sister.
Daniel’s voice returned to his mind, but this time, the words sounded different. They were not a casual assumption. They were a seed—a carefully planted, deadly seed designed to evoke an image of a vulnerable, innocent girl.
Leo looked back at the sleeping man in the chair, then down at the photo of the red-haired girl.
Julian Sterling had a daughter. A little girl who wrote "Love, Daddy" on silver picture frames. A little girl who was currently sleeping somewhere in the bedrooms upstairs.
If Leo drove the steel nail into Julian Sterling's throat tonight, he would not be an avenger. He would not be bringing justice to his mother.
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He would be turning Maya into Leo.
He would be creating another child who would spend her nights crying in dark rooms, holding a single silver coin, praying for a candle to guide her lost parent through the dark.
