Chapter 3 - THE WATCH THAT SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN TOUCHED
Dominic didn't move.
For several seconds, he simply stared at his daughter.
“What did Vanessa say, sweetheart?”
Lily twisted the yellow ribbon between her fingers.
“She said Mommy kept secrets.”
The words seemed to strike him harder than anything Vanessa had said all evening.
“What kind of secrets?”
“I don't know.”
Lily looked worried.
“She said you weren't supposed to find out.”
Dominic slowly knelt again.
“Listen to me. You haven't done anything wrong by telling me.”
“Even if Vanessa told me not to?”
“Especially then.”
Lily nodded.
I could see how exhausted she was.
Her eyes were swollen from crying, her dress had a faint stain near the collar, and every time somebody spoke too loudly, her shoulders lifted.
Dr. Harris finished securing a small protective dressing near her left ear.
“She needs rest,” he said. “And a quiet evening.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Emily, please take her to her room. I'll come upstairs shortly.”
Lily reached for him.
“Promise?”
He kissed her forehead.
“Promise.”
Upstairs, the house felt strangely unfamiliar.
The flowers were still arranged along the staircase for Saturday's wedding. White roses filled enormous glass vases, and gold ribbons hung from the banisters.
Lily stopped beside one arrangement.
“Are these still for the wedding?”
I hesitated.
“I don't think there will be a wedding, sweetheart.”
She looked down.
“Because of me?”
“No.”
I crouched beside her.
“Because grown-ups are responsible for their own decisions. Your father made one because he loves you.”
She considered that.
“Can we keep the flowers?”
Despite everything, I smiled.
“I think we can.”
When we reached her bedroom, Lily went straight to the window bench.
It was where Caroline had once braided her hair.
She pulled open the cushion storage compartment and removed a small wooden jewelry box.
Inside were three yellow ribbons, two photographs, and a child's drawing of a woman holding a little girl's hand.
But Lily was searching for something else.
“It's gone,” she whispered.
“What is?”
“Mommy's letter.”
My stomach tightened.
“What letter?”
“The one she wrote for when I got bigger.”
I knew Caroline had left keepsakes for Lily. Dominic occasionally mentioned them, but I had never been allowed to handle the collection.
“Are you sure it was here?”
Lily nodded.
“Daddy gave it to me on my last birthday. He said I could read it when I turned twelve.”
“Did you tell Vanessa?”
“She saw it when she cleaned my room.”
I frowned.
Vanessa never cleaned rooms.
“Did she take it?”
“I don't know.”
Lily looked embarrassed.
“She said I had too many old things.”
I helped her into pajamas and carefully arranged a soft pillow so the injured side of her head wouldn't press against it.
Then I sat beside her until Dominic arrived.
He had changed out of his suit jacket.
Without it, he looked less like the frightening man whose name made Chicago businessmen nervous and more like a tired father who had almost lost something precious.
“Daddy,” Lily said, “Mommy's letter is missing.”
He stopped.
“Which letter?”
“The birthday one.”
Dominic walked to the wooden box.
He examined the ribbons and photographs.
Then he closed his eyes.
“Emily, could you stay with her a little longer?”
“Of course.”
He leaned down and kissed Lily.
“I'll find it.”
She caught his hand.
“And your watch?”
“That too.”
He left quietly.
I thought Lily would fall asleep.
Instead, she asked a question I wasn't expecting.
“Miss Emily, did Mommy know she was going to die?”
I looked at her.
“I think she knew she was very sick.”
“Was she scared?”
“Probably sometimes.”
Lily thought for a moment.
“I'm scared sometimes too.”
I brushed a loose strand away from her forehead.
“What scares you?”
“That Daddy might get tired of me being sad.”
My throat tightened.
“Your daddy loves you when you're happy, sad, angry, or anything else.”
She watched me carefully.
“Even when I miss Mommy?”
“Especially then.”
She finally lay back.
A few minutes later, she slept.
When I returned downstairs, I found Dominic in Caroline's former sitting room.
The door stood open.
On the desk lay an empty velvet watch case.
Dominic held a small photograph.
I recognized Caroline immediately.
She was smiling in the garden, one hand resting against her stomach.
“Did you find it?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“This is the duplicate photograph.”
I stepped closer.
“Why would Vanessa want the original?”
Dominic looked down.
“The watch belonged to my grandfather. Caroline gave it to me the day we learned Lily was coming.”
He opened the velvet case.
“The back contains a small compartment. Caroline put that photograph inside.”
He hesitated.
“She told me it represented our beginning.”
“Could anything else fit inside?”
“A folded note, perhaps. Nothing larger.”
I remembered Lily's words.
Mommy left something inside it that didn't belong to you.
Dominic looked at me.
“Did Vanessa ever ask you about Caroline's belongings?”
“Yes.”
His eyes lifted.
“Tell me.”
“She asked which rooms still contained Mrs. Moretti's personal things. I thought she wanted to reorganize the house.”
“When?”
“About a month ago.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“That's when my watch disappeared.”
A folder lay open beside him.
He pushed it toward me.
“Margaret found this in Vanessa's study.”
It contained the academy's enrollment materials.
Near the front was a photocopy of Dominic's signature.
Below it, a sentence authorized Vanessa to act as a temporary educational contact.
He tapped the page.
“I did sign an event-management authorization Monday. She attached my signature to a document I'd never seen.”
“Can she actually use that?”
“Not legally to enroll Lily as her guardian. But she clearly wanted someone to believe she could.”
His phone lay on the desk beside the folder.
The wedding coordinator had already been informed that Saturday's ceremony was canceled.
Vanessa's luggage remained upstairs.
“Where is she now?” I asked.
“In the guest suite. Security has instructions that nothing leaves the estate until her belongings are inventoried with an independent witness.”
I hesitated.
“Mr. Moretti, I think Lily may have been more frightened than either of us realized.”
His expression tightened.
“I know.”
“She kept apologizing for everything. Even when I brought her water.”
Dominic looked toward Caroline's portrait.
“I've been telling myself Vanessa was simply struggling to become a stepmother.”
He swallowed.
“I didn't notice that my daughter was struggling to feel safe in her own home.”
There was no answer I could give him.
A moment later, Margaret appeared.
“Mr. Moretti, Miss Whitmore has agreed to retrieve the box Lily described.”
Dominic straightened.
“Bring it here.”
Margaret returned with a rectangular cream-colored storage box.
Inside lay Lily's cut braid, wrapped in tissue.
Her missing birthday letter.
And the silver watch.
Dominic reached for it.
His hands trembled as he opened the small compartment.
The photograph was there.
But behind it lay a narrow folded paper.
He carefully opened it.
I watched his expression change.
It wasn't a love note.
It was an old hospital receipt.
Printed across the top were Caroline's name and the date of Lily's birth.
Below that, someone had written a short message in blue ink.
Dominic read it twice.
Then sat down.
“What is it?” I whispered.
He turned the paper toward me.
Four words stood beneath the hospital stamp.
Ask Evelyn about Rose.
I stared at them.
“Who is Evelyn?”
Dominic's face had gone pale.
“My sister.”
“And Rose?”
He looked toward Caroline's portrait.
“Rose was the name Caroline wanted to give our daughter.”
He swallowed.
“But Lily was already three months old when Caroline first mentioned it to me.”
May you like
He lowered the note.
“And according to this receipt, she had written it on the day Lily was born.”
