The Package
In the main office of Velvet, Leo kept his eyes locked on the wall of security monitors. He tapped the tablet in his hand, pulling up the live feeds for the alleyway and the hidden front entrance.
The door clicked open, and Jess walked in, exhaling a long breath as she smoothed down her blazer. “All floors are operating at peak capacity. Floor staff is fully rotated, and the VIP lounges are completely taken care of. How’s it looking on your end?”
Leo turned from the screens, a rare smile breaking across his face. “Perimeter is completely clean. The doormen have nothing to report. It’s a miracle, Jess. A perfectly smooth night.”
Downstairs at the main service station, Ellie was looking over a printed manifest while Declan checked the lock on the liquor cage.
“The mid-week shipment of the reserve rye just cleared,” Ellie said, checking a box on her sheet. “We’re fully stocked for the weekend crush, and the bartenders have everything they need.”
“Told you we’d get it sorted before the Friday rush,” Declan said, sliding a fresh crate into place with the help of the staff. “Let’s go grab the others. Floors are running themselves right now.”
At the townhouse, Maria walked down the second-floor hallway, knocking gently on a bedroom door. “Fiona, bed. Now.”
“Five more minutes, Maria?” the seven-year-old begged from under her blankets.
“No. Sleep.” Maria turned to the next room, where twelve-year-old James was sitting up on his mattress, staring at a book. “James, lights out.”
“I’m not tired,” James murmured, not looking up.
Down the hall, a sharp yell cut through the quiet as the eleven-year-old twins went at it. “Danny, give it back! That’s my controller!”
“You weren’t even using it, Dahlia!”
“Quiet down, both of you,” Maria called out, shaking her head at the twins.
Before she could step in to break up the argument over the video game, the front doorbell rang.
Maria walked downstairs and opened the heavy door. A woman stood on the porch, her face partially obscured by the shadows of the evening. She held out a thick, rigid brown envelope.
“Make sure Leo and Declan Sullivan receive this,” the woman said, her voice sharp and urgent. “It’s extremely important.”
Before Maria could ask any questions, the woman turned and hurried down the steps. Maria closed the door, adjusting the heavy packet in her hands. She felt the edges and squeezed the center—it was light, completely pliable, just an un-bulky stack of papers. Assuming it was just standard business or legal documents, she set it down on the entryway console table by the door.
She didn’t think twice about it, locking up the house as the night moved on.
Past midnight, the doors to Velvet were finally locked. The four of them walked back into the townhouse and drifted straight out to the private, walled garden in the back.
Declan poured four glasses of wine, sliding one over to Ellie. “Tell me we don’t have to look at the spreadsheets until Monday.”
“Deal,” Ellie said, taking a sip. “Tonight was perfect.”
“We should do this more often,” Jess murmured, leaning her head against Leo’s shoulder on the outdoor sofa. “Just... nothing. No plans. No emergencies.”
“Agreed,” Leo said softly.
The soft creak of the French doors made them all turn.
Fiona stood in the doorway, her hair wild, dragging her favorite stuffed teddy bear by its arm.
Ellie smiled instantly, reaching out an arm. “Fifi... what are you doing up, sweetheart?”
Fiona padded across the stone patio and ran straight over to her parents, burying her face in Declan’s shoulder as he leaned down to scoop her up. Then, she suddenly stiffened. Her eyes went wide.
“Oh!” she gasped.
Declan chuckled, pulling back to look at his daughter. “What is it, kiddo?”
“I forgot!” Fiona scrambled out of Declan’s arms and ran back inside the house.
A minute later, she emerged, using both hands to drag the massive, heavy brown envelope she had snatched from the entryway table. She lifted it with a straining effort and held it out toward her father and uncle.
“The lady said it was really, really important,” Fiona proudly announced.
Declan set his wine glass down, his brow furrowing as he took the package. “What lady, Fifi? Maria said someone dropped it off earlier.”
“The lady at the door,” Fiona insisted, shaking her head. “I saw her through the window. She said it was for Uncle Leo and Daddy.”
Jess exchanged a swift, sharp look with Ellie as Leo shifted forward. “Fiona, did you look out the window when the bell rang?”
“Yes,” Fiona whispered, sensing the sudden shift in the air.
Leo didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the front of the envelope that Declan was holding. A pale yellow Post-it note was stuck to the center. Written in sharp, looping handwriting were three sentences:
It’s time for you to know the whole truth.
I’m sorry for everything.
I love you.
Leo reached across the small table, slowly peeling the yellow note away. He tore open the top of the envelope and reached inside, pulling out a glossy, slightly faded photograph.
It was Niamh. His mother.
The blood drained from Leo’s face instantly.
Declan sat up straight, his body rigid as he saw the photo in his brother’s hand. “Leo? What is that?”
“Leo, talk to us,” Jess pleaded, her hand gripping his arm. “Whose is it?”
Nobody spoke. The only sound was the sharp crackle of pages turning as Leo frantically grabbed the documents out of the folder, flipping through them inside.
“Medical records,” Leo whispered, his voice trembling. “A death certificate... these are old photos.”
He reached the final page—a single sheet of heavy cream stationery covered in frantic handwriting. At the very bottom, it was signed with a single name: Cara.
Leo’s breath caught. He stared at the signature, the truth of the documents bleeding into the quiet night.
“Declan...” Leo whispered.
Declan leaned over, his eyes scanning the name and the text. He froze, looking back up at his brother.
“What’s wrong?” Ellie finally demanded, her voice breaking the silence as she pulled Fiona slightly closer to her side. “Leo, please. What does it say?”
Leo slowly raised his head. The hardened, unyielding look he usually wore was completely gone. He looked entirely hollowed out.
He looked at his brother and spoke only one sentence.
“Call Marcus.”
interesting start.