Chapter 6 - THE PRISONER WHO REFUSED TO SAY LUCA
“Your father killed the real Luca Moretti.”
Claire heard the accusation before she entered the prison visiting room.
Two correctional officers stood beside a steel door.
One was speaking to the other, unaware that Claire could hear.
“Daniel Hale,” the younger officer said. “That's the guy who murdered the Mafia kid.”
Claire stopped walking.
For twenty-five years, she had believed her father abandoned her.
Now she knew he was alive.
But the first thing she heard about him was that he had killed a child.
Beside her, Luca Moretti remained silent.
He had insisted on accompanying her to Blackstone Correctional Facility.
Claire had almost refused.
Then she remembered the way he had stopped Vanessa from humiliating her.
And the way he had listened when she asked him to protect her mother's health.
She had agreed on one condition.
“No threats,” she'd told him.
“No promises you can't keep.”
Luca had nodded.
Now he looked toward the officers.
“That's enough.”
They recognized him immediately.
Both fell silent.
Claire touched his arm.
“Please don't.”
He looked at her.
Then stepped back.
Daniel Hale entered the visiting room five minutes later.
He was sixty-one.
His hair had gone almost completely gray.
His shoulders were narrow.
But he stood straight.
He looked at Claire.
And stopped.
For several seconds, he seemed unable to breathe.
“Claire?”
Her eyes filled.
He took one step toward her.
Then stopped himself.
“I hoped I'd see you before I died.”
Claire's throat tightened.
“You knew about me?”
He nodded.
“Your mother sent photographs until she couldn't afford the postage.”
“You never wrote.”
“I did.”
She stared.
“I never received anything.”
Daniel looked down.
“I figured.”
Claire felt anger rising beneath the grief.
“You let me think you didn't want me.”
His eyes filled.
“I never stopped wanting you.”
She turned away.
Luca remained near the wall.
Daniel finally noticed him.
His expression changed.
He gripped the back of the chair.
“No.”
Luca stepped forward.
“Mr. Hale.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No. You shouldn't be here.”
“Do you recognize me?”
Daniel stared at the scar beneath Luca's chin.
His face went pale.
“Peter.”
Luca froze.
Claire looked between them.
Daniel whispered, “My God. They kept you.”
Luca pulled out a chair.
“Sit down.”
Daniel lowered himself slowly.
For a moment, he stared at his hands.
Then Luca placed the photograph from Mercer Street on the table.
“Do you know this boy?”
Daniel nodded.
“That's Peter.”
“Who was Peter?”
Daniel looked toward Claire.
Then back at Luca.
“A child your father found.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Where?”
“Outside St. Agnes.”
“Why was he there?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Because somebody had been trying to erase him.”
“Who?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Twenty-nine years, Mr. Hale. You've had twenty-nine years to remember.”
Daniel lifted his eyes.
“And you've had twenty-nine years to become the man they wanted you to be.”
Luca went still.
Daniel continued.
“Antonio took you in because you were frightened. You didn't know your name. You barely spoke.”
“Why did he call me Luca?”
“He didn't.”
The room fell silent.
Daniel looked at Claire.
“That's the part nobody understood.”
Luca stared.
“What do you mean?”
“Antonio called you Peter.”
Daniel swallowed.
“It was Evelyn who started calling you Luca after the disappearance.”
Luca remembered his mother's voice.
His childhood.
The funeral.
The way she sometimes stared at him as if she were searching for someone else.
“Why would she do that?”
Daniel leaned back.
“Because she was terrified of losing another child.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Where was the real Luca?”
Daniel looked down.
“I don't know.”
Claire felt a wave of frustration.
“You were convicted of murdering him.”
“I know.”
“Then tell us what happened.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“I took two boys out of St. Agnes that night.”
“Which boys?” Luca asked.
“Peter and Matteo.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Why?”
“Because someone had ordered them transferred.”
“Transferred where?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I was told to take them to Milwaukee.”
“Who told you?”
“Your father.”
Luca stared.
“Antonio?”
Daniel nodded.
“But when I arrived at the train station, Marie was waiting.”
Claire's breath caught.
“My mother?”
Daniel looked at her.
“She had a letter from Evelyn.”
“What did it say?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Don't let the boys go back to the mansion.”
Luca felt something inside him break.
His mother had been trying to keep two children away from his childhood home.
“Why?” he whispered.
Daniel looked at him.
“Because someone inside that house had already taken the real Luca.”
The room went silent.
Claire gripped the edge of the table.
Daniel continued.
“Peter was hurt. Matteo was terrified. He kept saying his brother had disappeared.”
Luca suddenly remembered a child crying.
A hand gripping his coat.
And a voice:
Where's Luca?
He swallowed.
“Matteo knew I wasn't his brother.”
Daniel nodded.
“He knew.”
Luca looked down.
“Then why did nobody believe him?”
“Because he was seven.”
Daniel's voice cracked.
“And because the adults had already decided what story everyone would hear.”
Claire leaned closer.
“What happened at the station?”
Daniel hesitated.
Then whispered, “A woman came.”
“Vanessa's mother?” Luca asked.
Daniel nodded.
“She told Marie that Peter had to return to the Moretti house.”
“Why?”
“Because Antonio's enemies were watching the railway station.”
Luca felt cold.
“And Matteo?”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“Marie took him.”
Claire stared.
“My mother took Matteo?”
Daniel nodded.
“She promised to keep him safe.”
Luca immediately remembered the photograph of Marie standing beside a boy in a navy coat.
The lion-shaped button.
The red mitten.
Matteo had survived that night.
He had traveled to Milwaukee.
“Where did Marie take him?” Luca asked.
Daniel looked toward the correctional officer.
“I don't know.”
“Who would?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Evelyn.”
Luca slammed his palm against the table.
“She's spent twenty-nine years pretending Matteo drowned!”
The officer moved closer.
Claire placed a hand on Luca's arm.
“Please.”
Luca pulled away.
Daniel looked at him steadily.
“She wasn't pretending.”
“What?”
“After the train left, someone brought her a bloodstained coat.”
Luca stared.
“Whose coat?”
“Matteo's.”
Daniel swallowed.
“They told her the boy had been killed because she tried to hide him.”
Luca closed his eyes.
His mother had spent decades believing she had caused her son's death.
“And the real Luca?” Claire whispered.
Daniel looked at her.
His expression changed.
For the first time, he seemed afraid.
“That's why I went to prison.”
Luca leaned forward.
“What do you mean?”
Daniel gripped the edge of the table.
“I found something in Antonio's office.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of Luca?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Of the man who took him.”
Claire waited.
Daniel looked directly at Luca.
“The man was wearing Antonio's watch.”
Luca frowned.
“My father had several watches.”
“Not that one.”
Daniel's voice became urgent.
“Gold case. Blue second hand. A small crack across the crystal.”
Luca went still.
He knew that watch.
It had been buried with his father twelve years earlier.
Daniel leaned forward.
“The man in the photograph was not Antonio.”
“Then who was he?”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“Antonio's younger brother.”
Luca froze.
“Uncle Gabriel?”
Daniel nodded.
Luca shook his head.
“Gabriel died before Matteo disappeared.”
Daniel's expression turned grim.
“No, he didn't.”
Claire felt the air leave her lungs.
Daniel continued.
“Gabriel was alive that night.”
Luca stared.
“And he was the man who ordered me to take the blame.”
The officer stepped forward.
“Time's up.”
Luca didn't move.
Daniel grabbed Claire's hand before she stood.
“Listen to me.”
She looked at him.
“There's one thing you must ask your mother.”
“What?”
Daniel's voice shook.
“Ask Marie why she named you Claire.”
Claire frowned.
“Because she liked the name?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He glanced toward Luca.
“Claire was the name of the little girl who disappeared from St. Agnes the same night.”
Claire stopped breathing.
Daniel released her hand.
May you like
And whispered:
“Your mother named you after a child she promised she would never forget.”
