Chapter 6 - THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE RED COAT
“Vanessa isn't taking that little girl.”
The words came from Luca so quietly that everyone in Isabella's hospital room turned toward him.
He stood beside the window, holding the court notice.
“Not if I can stop it.”
Michael Reed shook his head.
“You can't walk into a courtroom and order people around, Luca. That's exactly what Richard wants you to do.”
Luca looked at him.
“Then tell me what Anna needs.”
“Evidence. Proper representation. And someone willing to tell the truth about what happened seventeen years ago.”
I was still holding Lucy's drawing.
Eight years old.
A little sister who had been taken from her mother.
I thought of being eight myself, falling asleep on Thomas Carter's shoulder while Catherine read beside us.
Lucy deserved that same feeling of safety.
“I'm going to the hearing,” I said.
Luca turned.
“Emily, the documents in your bedroom have your name on them.”
“Then I need to explain why they're there.”
“They might question you about the money.”
“Let them.”
Michael looked troubled.
“Richard has spent years preparing for situations like this.”
I folded Lucy's drawing carefully.
“Then somebody should have stood up to him years ago.”
Isabella reached for my hand.
“Brave,” she whispered.
I looked at her.
“No, Grandma.”
The word surprised us both.
Her eyes immediately filled with tears.
“I'm frightened,” I admitted. “But I'm going anyway.”
At six the following morning, Luca arranged for an independent attorney named Margaret Ellis to meet us at the hospital.
She was in her early sixties, with short gray hair and the tired expression of someone who had spent decades listening to people insist they were innocent.
She examined the court notice, the photographed evidence, and the records Daniel had preserved.
Then she looked at Luca.
“Richard knows how to create doubt.”
“Can you stop him?” Luca asked.
“I can challenge his claims. But we're not walking in pretending this is simple.”
She turned toward me.
“Emily, did you ever accept cash from Anna Moretti?”
“No.”
“Did you know she was your biological mother before last night?”
“No.”
“Did Vanessa Bellini help arrange your employment?”
“Yes. Apparently without telling me.”
Margaret made a note.
“Then the first thing we establish is that Richard's story depends on information you didn't possess.”
Luca leaned forward.
“What about Lucy?”
“The court will focus on her safety, not the Moretti inheritance. That's important. We need evidence about her actual care and why the temporary placement was requested.”
Michael spoke from the corner.
“Anna has been a good mother.”
Margaret nodded.
“Then we demonstrate it.”
She paused.
“But there's another problem.”
She placed a page on the table.
“Richard's filing alleges that Anna left Lucy without an appropriate caregiver while pursuing financial matters.”
I stared at her.
“That's not what happened.”
“Can you prove otherwise?”
Michael looked down.
“Rose was helping with school pickups. Anna had written permission on file.”
Margaret looked at him.
“Then we'll need those records.”
Something occurred to me.
“Rose said Anna had an apartment above the bakery. Lucy probably lived there.”
Michael nodded.
“She did.”
“Then Lucy's things are there. Her schoolwork. Her clothes. Maybe photographs.”
Margaret smiled faintly.
“Those are useful, but the school records and Rose's testimony will matter more.”
Luca reached for his coat.
“Then we should get them.”
The bakery was still dark when we arrived.
Rose opened the door immediately.
Her eyes were red.
“Has anyone found Anna?”
“Not yet,” Luca said. “But we need to help Lucy.”
Rose stepped aside.
“Come in.”
Upstairs, Anna's apartment was small but warm.
A yellow quilt covered the sofa.
Books filled a wooden shelf beside the window.
On the refrigerator hung a crooked paper heart.
Inside it, written in purple crayon, were three words.
MOM AND ME.
I stopped in front of it.
For years, I'd imagined Anna living somewhere beautiful and distant, too occupied with her own life to remember me.
Instead, she'd been living above a neighborhood bakery.
Making a home for another daughter.
Rose opened a kitchen drawer.
“Anna kept Lucy's school papers here.”
Inside were permission slips, report cards, and a calendar filled with reminders.
Library day.
Dental appointment.
School play.
Every page was covered in Anna's careful handwriting.
Rose showed Margaret an authorization naming her as an approved emergency contact.
“Anna never abandoned Lucy,” Rose said. “She arranged every pickup. Even when she was worried, she never stopped taking care of that child.”
Margaret photographed the form.
Then I noticed a red wool coat hanging beside the door.
Small.
With wooden buttons shaped like flowers.
“Is that Lucy's?”
Rose nodded.
“She refused to wear it last week because she said it made her look like a tomato.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
“That sounds like an eight-year-old.”
Rose touched the coat.
“Anna bought it secondhand and replaced the buttons herself.”
I noticed a piece of paper inside the pocket.
A folded ticket.
Chicago Children's Museum.
Two adults and one child.
The date was three weeks earlier.
On the back, someone had written:
Next time, Emily comes too.
I stared at the words.
“Anna was going to introduce us.”
Rose looked at me sadly.
“She talked about it constantly.”
“Why didn't she?”
“She was afraid your first meeting would happen under Richard's control. She wanted you to be able to leave if you weren't ready.”
I looked at Luca.
My biological mother hadn't been planning to make some dramatic announcement at the mansion.
She'd been planning a simple afternoon with her daughters.
Somewhere bright and ordinary.
Somewhere Lucy could show me her favorite things.
And Richard had stolen even that.
At the courthouse, Vanessa was already waiting.
She wore a cream-colored suit.
Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun.
She looked nothing like the woman who had threatened to fire me beside Isabella's bleeding body.
When she saw Luca, her expression changed.
“Luca.”
He stopped several feet away.
“Vanessa.”
She looked toward me.
“Emily, I know this must be overwhelming.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“You're trying to take Lucy from her mother.”
Vanessa flinched.
“That's not what I wanted.”
“Your name is on the petition.”
“My father said the child needed somewhere stable until everything was sorted out.”
“She already had somewhere stable.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“You don't understand what he told me.”
“Then tell me.”
She looked toward the courtroom doors.
“My father said Anna was using Lucy to get money from Luca. He said the girl was being moved between strangers.”
“Rose isn't a stranger,” I answered. “She's practically family.”
Vanessa lowered her gaze.
For the first time, I wondered whether she understood how much her father had manipulated her.
Then I remembered Isabella lying injured on the marble floor.
“Did you push Luca's mother?” I asked.
Vanessa looked up sharply.
“No.”
“Did you take her shoes?”
“Yes.”
Luca went still.
Vanessa swallowed.
“My father told me Isabella was hiding something that could hurt our family.”
“Your family?” Luca asked.
“Ours, Luca. I thought we were building one.”
“You threatened to have Emily fired for helping my mother.”
Vanessa's voice broke.
“Because I thought she was helping Anna steal from you.”
I stared at her.
“You hired me.”
Vanessa looked genuinely confused.
“My father recommended you. He said you had excellent references.”
“Your signature authorized my employment.”
“I signed the household staffing approvals he prepared. I didn't choose the individual applicants.”
She looked toward Richard, who stood near the courtroom entrance.
Then her face changed.
“He told me Emily was stealing from your mother,” she whispered.
Luca said nothing.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“I knew your mother didn't like me. I thought Anna was encouraging her to ruin our wedding.”
“And you believed that justified everything you did?” Luca asked.
Vanessa began crying.
“No.”
For a moment, her voice sounded painfully sincere.
Then Richard appeared beside her.
“Vanessa, don't speak to them.”
She stiffened immediately.
Richard smiled at Luca.
“This is becoming unnecessarily emotional.”
Luca stared at him.
“You took my sister's inheritance.”
Richard's expression didn't change.
“Your father authorized the distribution.”
“Then you won't mind explaining the transfers.”
“Certainly. Through the proper channels.”
He looked toward me.
“Miss Carter, I understand you're under considerable stress. I'd advise you to avoid making accusations that might complicate your own situation.”
Luca took one step forward.
Margaret Ellis placed a hand on his arm.
“Don't give him what he wants.”
Richard smiled again.
“Good advice.”
The hearing began forty minutes later.
Lucy sat beside a court-appointed representative.
She wore a purple sweater and held a small stuffed rabbit.
Her brown hair was gathered in two uneven braids.
When I entered, she looked at me.
Then at my bracelet.
Her eyes widened.
I sat quietly beside Margaret.
The judge reviewed the emergency petition.
Richard argued that Anna had become distracted by a long-running financial dispute and had recently failed to maintain proper supervision.
Margaret presented the school authorization, Rose's statement, and evidence of Anna's consistent care.
The judge questioned the circumstances behind the emergency placement.
Then she asked whether Anna Moretti was present.
Nobody answered.
My heart sank.
Richard stood.
“Your Honor, the mother's absence confirms our concerns.”
I gripped Lucy's drawing beneath the table.
Then Lucy raised her hand.
The judge looked toward her.
“Do you have something you want to say, Lucy?”
The little girl nodded.
“Mom didn't leave me.”
Richard's expression tightened.
Lucy looked down at her rabbit.
“She said she'd come back after she fixed something.”
The judge spoke gently.
“Do you know where she went?”
Lucy nodded again.
“Mr. Bellini's office.”
The courtroom became still.
Richard slowly sat down.
The judge leaned forward.
“Lucy, when did your mother go there?”
“Tuesday.”
I looked at Luca.
Tuesday.
Three days earlier.
Lucy lifted her rabbit.
“Mom said if she wasn't back by bedtime, I should give the lady at school something.”
“What something?” the judge asked.
Lucy reached into her sweater pocket.
She pulled out a small brass key attached to a blue ribbon.
My breath caught.
The ribbon matched the one tied around Isabella's sewing basket.
Lucy looked straight at Richard.
“Mom said the man with the shiny glasses wasn't supposed to have it.”
Then she turned toward me.
“Are you Emily?”
I could barely speak.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
May you like
Lucy held out the key.
“Mom said you would know what to open.”
