Chapter 6 - THE LETTER SHE NEVER MEANT HIM TO READ
Luca held the envelope without opening it.
For six years, he had searched for anything that might tell him what happened to Sofia.
Now his wife's handwriting was inches from his face.
And he was afraid of what it might say.
Emma watched his fingers tremble.
“Mr. Moretti,” she said softly, “you don't have to read it alone.”
Luca looked at her.
Then at the music box.
“Isabella used to play this every night.”
His voice grew quieter.
“Sofia couldn't sleep unless she heard it.”
Emma said nothing.
Luca carefully opened the envelope.
The letter began with a sentence that made his throat tighten.
My dearest Luca, if you're reading this, then I failed to bring our little girl home myself.
He stopped.
For a moment, the room seemed to disappear.
He could almost hear Isabella speaking.
He remembered her laughing in the kitchen.
Remembered the way she tucked her hair behind her ear.
Remembered how she always kissed Sofia's forehead twice.
He forced himself to continue.
I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. What happened was not your fault, but people we trusted used your name to frighten me.
Luca swallowed.
Your father told me Sofia was taken because someone wanted revenge against our family. He said the safest thing was to let the police believe she was missing while he arranged private protection.
Luca stared at the words.
His father had told him the same story.
Only with one difference.
Vittorio had insisted he knew nothing about Sofia's location.
The letter continued.
I believed him because he was your father, and because I was desperate. But when I learned Sofia had been moved into a medical program funded by Anthony Bellini, I demanded to see her.
Luca read the next paragraph twice.
Rachel helped me visit the facility. Sofia was alive. She was frightened, but she recognized me. I promised I'd come back.
A sound escaped Luca's throat.
He covered his mouth.
Emma's eyes filled.
For six years, Luca had imagined Sofia alone.
Abandoned.
Uncertain whether anyone wanted her.
Now he knew Isabella had found her.
Had held her.
Had promised to return.
And then had died.
Luca continued reading.
Rachel believes we can get her home. But your father says Anthony has evidence that could destroy you and put Sofia in danger. He wants me to sign medical guardianship papers and wait.
I will not sign them.
If anything happens to me, ask Rachel about the blue ledger. It records every transfer.
The final sentence had been written hurriedly.
And Luca, please remember that the man who taught you to protect your family is not necessarily the man who protected ours.
Luca lowered the letter.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he looked at Detective Donovan.
“My father lied to both of us.”
Donovan nodded carefully.
“That letter gives us a reason to investigate him. It doesn't yet establish everything he did.”
Luca folded the page.
“It establishes enough for me.”
Marco approached with an update.
“Boss, officers reached the estate.”
Luca looked up.
“My father?”
“He was there.”
“And?”
“He agreed to come in voluntarily.”
Luca frowned.
“That doesn't sound like him.”
Marco hesitated.
“He asked one question before leaving.”
“What?”
“Whether you'd found Isabella's music box.”
Luca's expression hardened.
Donovan immediately requested that investigators secure Vittorio's communications and examine his recent movements.
Emma looked at the medical bracelet on the table.
“Detective, have you found the ambulance?”
“Traffic cameras tracked it heading west, but it left the highway near a rural service road.”
“Does that mean the girls are gone again?”
“It means we need to search a smaller area.”
Emma lowered her gaze.
Her ankle throbbed.
She hadn't eaten since breakfast.
But none of that mattered.
All she could think about was Mia sitting beside a stranger, waiting for someone to explain why she couldn't go home.
Then Helen Price returned.
“I remembered something about Sofia.”
Luca turned.
“What?”
“She kept asking for a particular birthday present.”
“A present?”
“A watch.”
Luca frowned.
“Sofia never liked watches.”
“She said her father once promised to teach her how to tell time.”
Luca remembered.
The day before their vacation, Sofia had pointed at his father's old pocket watch.
He had promised her a smaller one for her sixth birthday.
A birthday she never celebrated at home.
Helen continued.
“Rachel bought her a little wristwatch, but Sofia wouldn't wear it. She said she wanted the one her daddy promised.”
Luca looked down.
He wore a silver watch that had belonged to his grandfather.
Its glass was scratched.
The leather strap was worn.
He had never replaced it.
Not even after becoming wealthy enough to buy any watch in the world.
“Tell Sofia,” he whispered, “I still have it.”
Helen's eyes filled.
Donovan stepped forward.
“Mr. Moretti, we need to focus on finding her before making contact.”
“I know.”
But his hand remained on the watch.
Meanwhile, investigators examined the music box.
A small brass key was attached beneath the base.
Marco recognized the manufacturer's marking.
“This isn't a music-box key.”
Donovan studied it.
“What does it open?”
“A medical records cabinet. Older style.”
Luca remembered Isabella mentioning a locked cabinet in her father's study.
But the key had a tiny blue thread tied around it.
The same shade described in her letter.
“The blue ledger,” he said.
Donovan examined the key.
“Do you know where the cabinet is?”
Luca shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Emma looked at the white music box.
Then remembered Mia's strange behavior after therapy three weeks earlier.
Her daughter had insisted the box must never be left near a window.
Emma had asked why.
Mia had said Sophie told her bad people could see inside.
At the time, Emma assumed it was children's imagination.
Now she wondered whether Sofia had been trying to protect something.
“There's another compartment,” Emma said.
Marco examined the bottom.
A tiny wooden panel had been pushed into place.
He carefully slid it open.
Inside lay a folded hospital wristband.
The plastic had yellowed with age.
Luca read the printed name.
SOFIA MORETTI.
Beside it was a date.
The day Sofia disappeared.
And beneath the patient identification was a transfer authorization number.
Donovan immediately checked it against the documents recovered from the wedding box.
Then her expression changed.
“This authorization wasn't issued to Dr. Evelyn Hart.”
“Who received it?” Luca asked.
Donovan turned the computer screen toward him.
The transfer had been approved using the credentials of a senior hospital administrator.
VITTORIO MORETTI.
Luca stared.
His father had not merely known about Sofia's transfer.
He had personally authorized it.
Then Donovan noticed a second signature.
A witness had countersigned the authorization.
Rachel Bennett.
But beneath her name was a handwritten note.
TRANSFER ORDERED UNDER PROTEST. CHILD NOT TO BE RETURNED TO FATHER UNTIL MOTHER'S SAFETY IS CONFIRMED.
Luca read the sentence again.
Then he looked at the date.
The order had been signed at 11:42 a.m.
And Isabella's original hospital admission record showed something extraordinary.
At that exact time, she had been admitted to an emergency ward after collapsing.
Luca whispered, “My father took Sofia while Isabella was fighting for her life.”
Donovan shook her head.
“We still need to establish who arranged what.”
Then Marco's computer produced another alert.
A rural clinic had reported an abandoned ambulance.
Inside, officers found two small blankets.
An empty pediatric medication container.
And a child's drawing taped to the dashboard.
It showed a gray-haired man holding a silver pocket watch.
May you like
Underneath, in Sofia's handwriting, were five words.
GRANDPA SAID DADDY SENT HIM.
