Chapter 7 - THE SECOND BABY
Marco stared at the drawing.
His face had lost all color.
Luca held the paper between them.
“What happened to the second baby?”
Marco swallowed.
“Luca, listen carefully.”
“I've been listening all night.”
“Your wife knew there was another child involved in the hospital arrangement.”
Luca frowned.
“Another child?”
“Yes.”
Antonio lowered himself into a chair.
Vanessa stood near her father, looking confused.
Bellini closed his eyes.
Luca turned toward him.
“You know what he's talking about?”
The doctor nodded.
“There were two infants transferred that night.”
My stomach tightened.
“Two?”
Marco looked toward me.
“One was Ethan.”
“And the other?” Luca demanded.
Marco hesitated.
“A baby girl.”
Luca stared.
“Whose daughter?”
Bellini whispered:
“Mine.”
Vanessa slowly turned toward her father.
“What?”
The doctor looked at her.
“You were twenty-seven. You'd been told your baby died.”
Vanessa froze.
“No.”
Bellini's eyes filled.
“I told you that because I was ashamed.”
She stepped backward.
“No.”
Luca lowered the drawing.
Vanessa's voice rose.
“My daughter died at birth. You showed me the certificate.”
Bellini began crying.
“I know.”
“Don't you dare tell me she lived.”
The doctor covered his face.
Marco spoke quietly.
“She did.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“You knew?”
Marco nodded.
“I helped Ruth move both children.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No. That's impossible.”
Bellini looked devastated.
“I was afraid of what would happen if your child became part of the investigation.”
Vanessa's expression twisted.
“You let me bury an empty coffin?”
Nobody answered.
She looked toward Luca.
For the first time, there was no arrogance left in her face.
Only grief.
“I held that coffin.”
Luca said nothing.
Vanessa turned toward her father.
“You watched me cry for eleven years.”
Bellini lowered his head.
“Yes.”
The room became unbearably quiet.
I thought about every cruel thing Vanessa had said to Sophie.
Every time she'd insisted a dead mother should remain forgotten.
Now I understood the source of some of her bitterness.
She had been carrying a loss she believed was permanent.
But understanding wasn't forgiveness.
And it didn't excuse the way she'd treated a child.
Luca looked toward Marco.
“Where is Vanessa's daughter?”
Marco hesitated.
“Ruth arranged another placement.”
“Where?”
“I don't know her current location.”
Vanessa gripped the table.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Marco looked miserable.
“Ruth was protecting both children. She didn't tell me everything.”
Vanessa turned toward Bellini.
“Did you know where she went?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Did you ever look?”
He began crying.
“I was afraid they'd expose what I had done.”
She stared at him.
Then she removed her engagement ring.
Luca watched silently.
Vanessa placed it on the table.
“I don't deserve to wear this.”
Luca didn't reach for it.
“You don't.”
She looked as though the words physically hurt.
But she nodded.
“I know.”
Sophie stood beside the doorway.
I hadn't realized she was still there.
She looked toward Vanessa.
“Did you lose a baby too?”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Sophie stepped closer.
“Mommy said missing somebody hurts.”
Vanessa sank into a chair.
For the first time that evening, she didn't tell Sophie to be quiet.
She simply nodded.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Sophie looked at her father.
“Can we help find her?”
Luca knelt.
“We can try.”
Sophie thought for a moment.
“Then maybe she won't be lonely anymore.”
Vanessa began crying again.
I gently guided Sophie back toward her room.
She looked up at me.
“Emily?”
“Yes?”
“Was Vanessa sad when she was mean?”
I hesitated.
“Maybe she was sad. But that doesn't make it okay to hurt people.”
Sophie nodded seriously.
“Okay.”
When I returned, Luca was examining the notebook.
Several pages were filled with Elena's handwriting.
There were initials.
Dates.
And repeated references to a private adoption agency.
Marco explained that Bellini had been moving children through falsified medical paperwork.
Some families had paid enormous sums.
Others believed they were participating in legitimate adoption arrangements.
The truth had been hidden beneath layers of false records.
Elena had discovered the pattern while searching for Ethan.
She'd found evidence that Vanessa's daughter had survived.
But she hadn't known how to tell Vanessa safely.
“She was afraid Bellini would move the girl again,” Marco explained.
Vanessa looked toward him.
“Why didn't Elena tell me?”
Marco hesitated.
“Because you were defending your father.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
It was true.
She had spent years protecting a man who had lied to her.
Antonio turned a page in the notebook.
“This isn't just about Bellini.”
Luca leaned closer.
“What?”
“Look at these initials.”
Three entries appeared beside large payments.
S.M.
M.D.
V.B.
Vanessa stared.
“That's my name.”
Luca looked at her.
“Did you make payments to the foundation?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
Marco frowned.
“Your father may have used accounts in your name.”
Vanessa looked horrified.
“He had access to my finances.”
Bellini said nothing.
Luca studied the dates.
“The payments continued after Elena died.”
Antonio nodded.
“And after Salvatore died.”
Marco leaned closer.
“Someone kept the operation running.”
Luca looked toward Bellini.
“Who?”
The doctor stared at the notebook.
Then he shook his head.
“I don't know who controlled it after I stepped away.”
Marco's expression changed.
“You stepped away?”
“Three years ago.”
Luca looked sharply at him.
“That's when Vanessa first met Ethan.”
Vanessa stared at her father.
“You sent me to Ruth.”
Bellini nodded.
“I wanted you to meet the boy.”
“Why?”
“Because I hoped you'd see him as family.”
She stared.
“You knew he was Luca's son.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me believe he was my nephew.”
Bellini lowered his head.
“I thought if you loved him, you'd eventually convince Luca to accept him without asking questions.”
Luca's voice became cold.
“You were still trying to control the truth.”
Bellini nodded.
“Yes.”
Antonio turned another page.
A photograph slipped out.
It showed Elena standing beside Ruth Whitaker.
Between them was a little girl with dark curls.
On the back, Elena had written:
The second child is safe. Ruth knows where she belongs.
Vanessa reached for the photograph.
Her hands shook.
“That's my daughter?”
Bellini stared.
“I don't know.”
Vanessa looked toward Luca.
“Please.”
He took a long breath.
“We'll find out.”
I examined the photograph.
The child wore a little silver necklace.
A heart-shaped pendant.
Something about it looked familiar.
Then I remembered.
Three weeks earlier, while cleaning Vanessa's dressing room, I'd seen an identical pendant in a jewelry box.
But hers had been broken.
One half of a heart.
I looked toward Vanessa.
“Miss Bellini, do you have a necklace with half a silver heart?”
She stared at me.
“Yes.”
“Where did you get it?”
“My mother gave it to me after the delivery.”
I felt a chill.
“Would you bring it?”
Vanessa hurried upstairs.
When she returned, she carried a small velvet pouch.
Inside was half a silver heart.
Antonio took the photograph.
Then the pendant.
He studied them.
“There should be another half.”
Vanessa whispered:
“With my daughter?”
Marco nodded.
“Ruth arranged for the two pieces to remain separate. She said they could prove the connection someday.”
Luca stared at the notebook.
Then he noticed something on the final page.
An address.
Milwaukee.
Beneath it was a handwritten instruction.
Ask Ruth about the girl in the yellow coat.
Luca looked toward me.
“Emily, does Sophie have a yellow coat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where did it come from?”
I thought for a moment.
“Mrs. Moretti's old things. Antonio gave it to me to alter last winter.”
Antonio's face changed.
“Emily, bring it here.”
I hurried to Sophie's room.
The coat hung inside her wardrobe.
Pale yellow.
Small silver buttons.
A carefully stitched lining.
I carried it downstairs.
Antonio examined the collar.
Then he opened the inner seam.
A folded photograph slipped out.
It showed Elena holding a little girl in a yellow coat.
The child was older than Ethan.
Perhaps five.
On the back was written:
For the day the truth finally comes home.
But beneath the message was another name.
Not Vanessa's.
Not Ruth's.
A name I recognized immediately.
My mother's.
MARGARET CARTER.
May you like
And beside it, in Elena's handwriting:
“EMILY'S MOTHER KNOWS WHERE THE GIRL IS.”
