Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
“Your daughter is confused, Luca. And if you keep encouraging this, you'll destroy the only family she has left.”
Vanessa Whitmore stood in the library doorway, her diamond engagement ring catching the light.
Luca Moretti didn't move.
His nine-year-old daughter was still holding his jacket, her eyes fixed on the woman who had grabbed her wrists earlier that evening.
“Don't speak about my daughter as though she isn't standing here,” Luca said.
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Then perhaps someone should explain why a housekeeper is filling her head with stories about your mother.”
Hannah Bennett felt Lily's fingers tighten around hers.
She signed gently.
You didn't do anything wrong.
Lily nodded, but her eyes remained frightened.
Luca looked at Vanessa.
“Where's the black folder?”
“What folder?”
“The one Richard Hale carried out of my grandmother's suite.”
Vanessa glanced toward the hallway.
It lasted less than a second.
But Luca noticed.
“Richard was helping your grandmother organize some papers,” she answered.
“At seven-sixteen tonight?”
“She asked him to.”
“My grandmother has been in a rehabilitation center for eleven days.”
Vanessa's expression changed.
Hannah hadn't known that.
She had been employed at the mansion for only four months, and the older Mrs. Moretti had left shortly after Hannah arrived.
Still, the woman had been kind to her.
On Hannah's first week, she'd found Lily alone in the breakfast room, struggling to explain that her hearing-aid batteries had been misplaced.
Lily could communicate most comfortably through ASL, although she also read lips when she could see a speaker clearly.
Hannah had signed to her.
I can understand you.
The little girl had hugged her so hard she'd nearly dropped the breakfast tray.
Later, Luca's grandmother had found Hannah in the kitchen.
“Don't ever let anyone convince that child her voice doesn't matter,” she'd said.
Now Hannah understood why those words had sounded so urgent.
Luca crossed the room.
“Vanessa, give me the folder.”
“I don't have it.”
“Then I'll ask Richard.”
“Please don't.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Luca stopped.
“Why?”
Vanessa looked toward Lily.
For the first time that evening, she seemed genuinely afraid.
“Because there's something in those records that your grandmother never intended you to see.”
“Then why did you take them?”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Before she could answer, Luca's security chief, Marcus Bell, appeared at the doorway.
“Sir, Mr. Hale is waiting in the downstairs sitting room.”
“Tell him to leave.”
“He says he can't.”
Luca frowned.
Marcus hesitated.
“He claims he has legal authority to take possession of certain family records.”
Vanessa exhaled.
“See? This is exactly why you should let Richard handle it.”
Luca turned toward her.
“Richard doesn't decide what happens to my family.”
He looked at Hannah.
“Stay here with Lily.”
But Lily began signing immediately.
Hannah watched, then looked up.
“She says she doesn't want to stay in this room.”
“Why?”
Lily pointed to the portrait above the fireplace.
It showed Luca's father, Salvatore Moretti, standing beside his late wife, Elizabeth.
Young Luca stood between them.
Lily signed again.
Grandma said the picture was wrong.
Luca stared at his daughter.
Hannah translated.
“She says your grandmother told her the woman in the portrait wasn't the woman who brought you home.”
Luca felt the room shift around him.
His mother had died when he was seven.
He remembered her perfume, her soft voice, and the way she tucked his blanket beneath his chin.
He remembered Salvatore telling him that his mother had been killed in a terrible accident.
But there had always been gaps.
No funeral he could clearly recall.
No grave he was allowed to visit without his father.
And no photographs of Elizabeth holding him as a newborn.
“Ask Lily where the other photograph is,” Luca said.
Hannah signed the question.
Lily looked toward the fireplace.
Then she shook her head.
Not there.
She touched her own chest.
Grandma gave it to me.
Luca crouched.
“Where, sweetheart?”
Lily reached beneath the collar of her pale blue dress.
Hanging from a narrow ribbon was a small silver locket.
Luca recognized it immediately.
His grandmother had worn it for as long as he could remember.
He had assumed she'd lost it.
Lily opened the locket.
Inside was a photograph no larger than a postage stamp.
A young woman with dark hair held a baby wrapped in a cream-colored blanket.
The woman's face was turned slightly toward the camera.
There was something familiar about her eyes.
Luca carefully removed the photograph.
On the back, in his grandmother's handwriting, were four words.
Luca. October 12, 1987.
His birthday.
Hannah looked at the photograph.
“Mr. Moretti, that's the same woman Lily described.”
Luca barely heard her.
He turned the locket over.
There was an engraving inside.
For my Elizabeth. Always. — S.
Salvatore.
His father.
Luca stared at the woman's face.
“That's not my mother.”
Nobody answered.
Then Lily signed another sentence.
Hannah translated slowly.
“Grandma said the lady in the photograph cried when somebody took the baby away.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Luca, you need to stop this.”
He looked at her.
“Who is she?”
“I don't know.”
“You've seen her.”
“No.”
“Then why are you shaking?”
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
For a moment, she looked less like the sophisticated woman who had charmed Boston society and more like someone standing at the edge of a terrible mistake.
“Because Richard told me what would happen if you found that picture.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He said your father would lose everything.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“My father died twelve years ago.”
“His estate didn't.”
Marcus entered again.
“Sir, Mr. Hale is insisting you speak with him.”
Luca slipped the photograph into his jacket pocket.
“Bring him here.”
Richard Hale entered three minutes later.
He was sixty-eight, silver-haired, and immaculately dressed.
He had been the Moretti family's attorney since before Luca was born.
He had attended Luca's school graduation.
He had stood beside him when Salvatore was buried.
And he had helped Luca establish the legitimate shipping companies that now supported most of his fortune.
Richard glanced at Vanessa.
Then at Hannah.
Then at Lily.
His face tightened.
“I see we've arrived at the difficult part.”
Luca held up the photograph.
“Who is this woman?”
Richard stared at it.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Finally, he removed his glasses.
“Her name was Margaret Whitmore.”
Hannah looked toward Vanessa.
Whitmore.
The same last name.
Vanessa whispered, “Richard, don't.”
Luca turned slowly.
“Your family?”
Vanessa's face drained of color.
Richard closed his eyes.
“Margaret was Vanessa's aunt.”
Luca looked back at the photograph.
Then he looked at the woman he was supposed to marry.
“Why is your aunt holding me on the day I was born?”
Richard gripped the back of a chair.
“Because Margaret Whitmore was the woman who gave birth to you.”
Luca stood completely still.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
And Lily, watching her father's face, began to cry.
Hannah immediately signed to her.
Daddy is here. You're safe.
But Luca barely seemed able to breathe.
“Are you telling me Elizabeth wasn't my mother?”
Richard looked at the carpet.
“Elizabeth raised you. She loved you. Nothing changes that.”
“Answer me.”
Richard swallowed.
“Yes.”
Luca stared at Vanessa.
“If Margaret was your aunt…”
He couldn't finish.
Richard finished for him.
“Then the woman you've been planning to marry is your biological cousin.”
But before Luca could react, Vanessa shook her head violently.
“No. That's not what the second birth certificate says.”
Everyone turned toward her.
May you like
Vanessa looked directly at Luca.
“Richard is lying about which baby your father brought home.”
