Chapter 4 - THE SECOND BRACELET
“Twins?”
My voice sounded unfamiliar.
Emily nodded.
“A boy and a girl.”
I gripped the edge of my desk.
For four years, I had mourned my wife.
For the past hour, I had been trying to understand how she had given me a daughter.
Now there was a son.
Somewhere.
Or perhaps buried beneath another name.
I looked at Matteo.
“Did you know?”
He stared at Emily.
“No.”
I believed him.
Not because I trusted him anymore.
But because the shock on his face was too immediate to disguise.
Emily carefully placed the bracelet on the desk.
“Sofia was admitted under strict privacy instructions. Only a handful of people knew she was pregnant.”
“Why wouldn't she tell me?” I asked.
Emily hesitated.
“She thought someone close to you was monitoring her medical appointments.”
Matteo looked wounded.
“She thought it was me?”
“She didn't know.”
I turned to Harland.
“Did you know about the second child?”
He shook his head.
“I knew there was another hospital file. I never saw what was inside.”
I studied him.
“Who ordered you to steal the folder?”
Harland glanced at Matteo.
Then lowered his head.
“Dr. Bellamy.”
The answer surprised me.
“Bellamy?”
“He called me three weeks ago. Said the folder contained evidence that could ruin the Moretti family.”
“Why would he care about my family?”
Harland rubbed his forehead.
“Because he said he'd spent four years protecting it.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Find Bellamy. Quietly.”
Daniel nodded.
“And Richard,” I added, “you're no longer managing this estate.”
Harland's shoulders dropped.
“Understood.”
“You won't go near Emily or Nora. Your movements stay restricted until we know what happened.”
He swallowed.
“And my son?”
“If Peter's in danger, Daniel will verify it and arrange protection. But what you did to Nora doesn't disappear because someone threatened you.”
Harland nodded.
He didn't argue.
As Daniel escorted him away, Matteo reached for his watch.
I placed my hand over it.
“Leave that.”
He looked at me.
“It was Dad's.”
“And right now, it's the only thing in this room connected to the night Harland entered my office.”
Matteo withdrew his hand.
For the first time in our lives, my younger brother looked at me like a stranger.
“You think I took your children?”
“I think you know more than you're telling me.”
He looked exhausted.
“Then you should hear the rest.”
He sat down.
“Dad's trust wasn't just charity. It was restitution.”
“For what?”
“For a warehouse fire twenty-three years ago.”
I remembered that fire.
Six workers died at a shipping warehouse owned by one of Dad's companies.
He'd told us faulty electrical wiring caused it.
Matteo continued.
“Dad learned years later that the fire had been deliberately started to destroy records tied to a business dispute.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who started it?”
“He never knew for certain. But he believed someone in his organization ordered it.”
“And the trust?”
“He set aside money for the families. Sofia discovered that most of the intended payments never reached them.”
I stared at him.
“Who controlled the accounts?”
Matteo looked down.
“Dad appointed Bellamy as medical trustee for affected families. Harland handled estate disbursements. I reviewed the investment statements.”
“And you didn't notice forty million dollars disappearing?”
“Not all of it disappeared.”
I waited.
“About eighteen million was diverted through property accounts.”
I looked toward the bank receipt.
“Your accounts.”
Matteo closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
I felt something hard settle in my chest.
“Why?”
“Because Dad asked me to move the money.”
I stared at him.
“Our father died six years ago.”
“The transfers started before he died.”
“Then why continue?”
Matteo looked at me.
“Because Bellamy told me stopping them would expose what Dad had done.”
I shook my head.
“You've spent years protecting a dead man's reputation while living families went without money they were owed.”
He didn't defend himself.
“I know.”
I turned away.
For years, I'd believed power meant control.
But inside my own home, a child had been frightened into washing a shirt.
And inside my own family, money intended for grieving widows and fatherless children had disappeared.
I had controlled nothing.
A soft voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Mr. Luca?”
Nora stood at the doorway beside Mrs. Bell.
She wore a clean pink sweater.
Her fingers were still bandaged.
I immediately crouched.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
She looked at my face.
“You sad?”
I felt my throat tighten.
“A little.”
She stepped closer.
“Soup helps.”
Mrs. Bell smiled sadly.
“She insisted you needed some.”
Nora held out a small bowl on a tray.
I accepted it with both hands.
“Thank you.”
She smiled.
Then she noticed the hospital bracelet on my desk.
Her expression brightened.
“Mine?”
Emily froze.
I looked at Nora.
“Have you seen one like this?”
She nodded.
“Mama keeps it.”
Emily slowly covered her face.
“Nora, sweetheart—”
“In the cookie tin,” the little girl continued.
I looked at Emily.
She whispered, “I never showed her what was written on it.”
Nora tugged my sleeve.
“Mine has stars.”
“How many, sweetheart?”
She held up two fingers.
“Two.”
I glanced at Emily.
The nurse gently took Nora back to the kitchen.
Only when the door closed did Emily speak.
“I kept everything Bellamy gave me.”
“Where?”
“In my room in the staff cottage.”
I stood.
“Let's get it.”
Twenty minutes later, we entered the small cottage behind the mansion.
I had visited it only twice in seven years.
Now I noticed the peeling paint around the windows.
The heater that clicked but barely warmed the room.
The narrow bed where Emily had been recovering from her illness.
Harland had reported that the staff accommodations were in excellent condition.
Another lie.
Emily opened the kitchen cabinet.
She removed a blue cookie tin.
Inside were Nora's first drawings, a tiny pair of shoes, and a faded hospital bracelet.
Two stars had been scratched into the plastic.
I lifted it.
BABY GIRL MORETTI.
Below the name was a date.
My daughter's birthday.
A date Sofia should have spent surrounded by flowers and family.
Instead, she had been lying in a hospital bed, frightened for her children's lives.
Beneath the bracelet was a silver necklace.
I recognized it immediately.
Sofia's necklace.
A small silver heart.
I'd given it to her on our first wedding anniversary.
Emily looked at me.
“She was wearing it when she came to the hospital.”
I opened the heart.
Inside was a tiny photograph of Sofia and me.
On the other side, there were two handwritten initials.
N. M.
And J. M.
I stared at them.
“Nora Moretti,” I whispered.
Emily nodded.
“And the boy?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know his full name.”
I turned the necklace over.
There was something engraved along its edge.
Three words.
FOR MY JACK.
I looked up.
“Jack?”
Emily's eyes widened.
“That's what Sofia called him.”
My son had a name.
Jack.
I closed my fingers around the necklace.
Then I noticed something else inside the cookie tin.
A folded hospital discharge slip.
One line had been circled in red.
MALE INFANT — RELEASED TO AUTHORIZED FAMILY GUARDIAN.
Beneath it was a signature.
Not Bellamy's.
Not Emily's.
Not Matteo's.
I knew the handwriting.
I'd seen it on family Christmas cards for as long as I could remember.
The guardian's name was written clearly.
TERESA MORETTI.
May you like
My mother.
The woman who had died eight years earlier.
