Chapter 1 - A four-year-old girl touched a blind mafia boss’s eyes and whispered, “I can heal you.” But when she revealed what her mother knew, his fiancée went pale and grabbed the child’s wrist, exposing a lie that had already stolen four years of his life.
The first thing I noticed was vanilla.
Cheap vanilla. Sweet and warm, mixed with wet leaves and the cold October air drifting through Central Park.
Then a tiny hand touched my forehead.
I stopped so suddenly that the tip of my cane scraped across the pavement.
“Mister,” a little girl whispered, “I can heal your eyes.”
For six months, I'd lived in complete darkness.
Three men had dragged me from my car outside a Midtown restaurant and beaten me badly enough to destroy the nerves behind my eyes. Men who somehow knew my route. My schedule. Even the exact moment my security detail would be separated from me.
Police called it a calculated attack.
In my world, we called it a message.
But no one ever claimed responsibility.
“What's your name?” I asked.
“Lily.”
She couldn't have been older than four.
Beside me, my fiancée Isabella was discussing our wedding on the phone. Twenty-three days from now, I was supposed to marry the woman who had become my eyes.
She chose my clothes.
Read my messages.
Handled appointments I could no longer manage alone.
And every night, she slept beside me.
I trusted her with everything I couldn't see.
Then Lily touched my eyelid with one tiny finger.
“My mama says your eyes aren't dead.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“They're sleeping.”
I almost smiled. “Your mother sounds optimistic.”
“No.”
Her voice became strangely serious.
“She said you're not supposed to be blind.”
Everything inside me went still.
Before I could ask what she meant, something hit the pavement behind me.
Isabella's coffee.
I heard the plastic lid bounce twice.
“Lily?”
Isabella's voice sounded different.
Not confused.
Terrified.
The little girl pulled her hand away from me.
“You know her?” I asked.
Isabella didn't answer.
Instead, she rushed forward.
“Get away from him.”
Lily gasped as Isabella grabbed her wrist.
“Isabella.”
“Dominic, she's bothering you.”
“Let her go.”
“She doesn't know what she's talking about.”
That sentence bothered me.
Because I hadn't told Isabella what Lily had said.
I slowly turned toward her voice.
“How do you know what she's talking about?”
Silence.
For the first time since I'd lost my sight, I wished desperately that I could see Isabella's face.
Then Lily whispered something that made Isabella's breathing stop.
“My mama said you'd be scared when you saw me.”
Saw her.
Not met her.
Saw her.
I reached toward Lily's voice.
“Who is your mother?”
Isabella's fingers tightened around my arm.
“Dominic, we're leaving.”
I pulled away.
“No.”
Then I heard Lily reach into her little coat.
Paper crinkled.
“I have something for you,” she said.
“What?”
“A picture.”
Isabella moved so fast I heard her heel slip against the wet pavement.
“Give me that.”
I caught her wrist before she could take it.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Lily said the words that turned the cold in my chest into fear.
“My mama told me you wouldn't remember her.”
I forgot about my blindness.
I forgot about the wedding.
I even forgot about the three men who had nearly killed me.
Because Isabella was trembling in my hand.
And Isabella never trembled.
“Tell me her name, Lily.”
The child hesitated.
May you like
Then she whispered it.
And suddenly, four years of my life no longer made sense.
