Chapter 6 - THE PETITION AGAINST TERESA MORETTI
“He filed what?”
Luca took the papers from Marco.
It was nearly one in the morning, but the exhaustion disappeared from his face.
He read the first page.
Then the second.
Finally, he looked up.
“Who authorized this?”
Marco pointed toward the final page.
“The petitioner is Eleanor Bellini, acting through the Bellini Medical Trust. Daniel Kessler prepared the filing.”
I felt my stomach drop.
Teresa was asleep upstairs, holding a blanket she'd sewn for a daughter stolen from her thirty-eight years ago.
And while we'd been investigating that theft, Eleanor had been trying to take away her right to make decisions.
Luca turned another page.
“There's a hearing Monday.”
Vanessa had told us the wedding was Saturday.
Now I understood the timing.
If Luca married Vanessa, Eleanor would gain another connection to the family.
If he didn't, the petition offered a different way to control Teresa.
Luca looked toward Marco.
“Get our family attorney here first thing in the morning. And have him contact someone who specializes in elder rights.”
Marco nodded.
“Already working on it.”
I pointed toward a paragraph in the filing.
“Sir, it says Mrs. Moretti has been unable to distinguish real events from imagined ones since her surgery.”
He read it.
The statement included several examples.
Anna's existence.
The letters from Boston.
The belief that a child had been taken from the family.
Every example was something we'd just confirmed had a basis in reality.
Luca carefully placed the papers on his father's desk.
“Eleanor used the truth to make my mother look sick.”
He took a slow breath.
“She's not going to get away with it.”
The next morning, Teresa joined us for breakfast in the sunroom.
She wore a soft gray cardigan.
The yellow blanket lay across her knees.
Luca sat beside her instead of at the head of the table.
“Mom, I need to tell you something.”
She looked at him.
“Did Anna call?”
“Not yet.”
Her smile faded.
“Then what?”
He explained the petition without concealing its seriousness.
Teresa listened carefully.
When he finished, she asked, “Will they put me somewhere?”
I saw fear move through her eyes.
Luca took her hand.
“Not without a proper process, Mom. And we'll challenge everything that's false.”
She looked toward me.
“Claire, would you still be allowed to visit?”
I crouched beside her.
“Of course.”
Teresa nodded slowly.
Then she looked at Luca.
“I want to speak for myself.”
He didn't hesitate.
“You will.”
That morning, Helena returned to review Teresa's care.
She explained that occasional memory problems did not automatically mean someone lacked the capacity to make every personal or financial decision.
Teresa answered questions about her home, her family, and her wishes.
She struggled briefly with the date.
But when Helena asked what she wanted most, her answer came immediately.
“My children.”
Luca looked away.
Helena closed her folder.
“I will prepare an independent clinical report based on my assessments. I cannot promise what a court will decide, but the petition's description is not consistent with everything I've observed.”
Teresa reached for her hand.
“Thank you for listening.”
Later that afternoon, Luca arranged a video consultation with a Boston-based advocate who had worked with families affected by fraudulent adoptions.
The advocate suggested contacting Anna directly rather than arriving unannounced at her home.
Luca agreed.
He sat at his father's desk with the telephone in front of him for almost ten minutes before dialing the bakery's published business number.
A recorded message provided an email address for customers.
Luca sent a short message identifying himself and explaining that Teresa wanted contact.
He didn't demand an answer.
He didn't mention his money.
He simply wrote that Anna was welcome to choose when and how they spoke.
I watched him read the message twice before sending it.
For a man accustomed to getting immediate answers, waiting without control was unfamiliar.
But he did it.
Meanwhile, Marco contacted the attorney handling the petition.
By midafternoon, Luca had learned something unexpected.
Daniel Kessler hadn't originally agreed to file it.
He had requested an additional medical evaluation before proceeding.
Eleanor had pressured him to move forward anyway.
Luca sat quietly after hearing that.
“Did he know Anna was real?”
“We don't know,” Marco said.
“Find out.”
The following morning, Luca met Daniel at a neutral office downtown.
I accompanied Teresa, who insisted on attending.
Helena came as well.
Daniel was forty-one, neatly dressed, and visibly uncomfortable when he saw us.
He rose immediately.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
Teresa looked at him.
“You're the man who says I'm confused.”
Daniel swallowed.
“I drafted a petition based on information supplied to my office.”
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Then you don't know me.”
He lowered his eyes.
“No, ma'am. I don't.”
Luca sat across from him.
“Mr. Kessler, do you know anything about an adoption arranged through St. Agnes in 1988?”
Daniel frowned.
“My father adopted me privately.”
“From St. Agnes?”
Daniel's expression changed.
“Why?”
Luca placed a copy of the ledger entry on the table.
Daniel read it.
Then looked at the hospital identification number.
“Where did you get this?”
“From the hospital archives.”
Daniel leaned back.
“My father told me my birth mother had voluntarily surrendered me.”
Teresa began trembling.
“No, sweetheart.”
Daniel looked at her.
She reached into her handbag.
Inside was an old embroidered handkerchief.
“I kept this because Rose gave it to me when she was looking for you.”
Daniel stared.
Teresa unfolded it.
A small blue letter R had been sewn into one corner.
“Your mother loved you.”
Daniel looked away sharply.
Luca spoke more gently.
“We have reason to believe the circumstances of your adoption were misrepresented.”
For several seconds, Daniel said nothing.
Then he reached into his briefcase.
He removed a photograph of an elderly man seated beside a Christmas tree.
“My father died last winter.”
His voice cracked.
“He wasn't always an easy man. But he loved me.”
Luca nodded.
“Nothing we're telling you changes the years you shared with him.”
Daniel stared at the photograph.
“Then why does it feel like everything just changed?”
Nobody answered.
Finally, Daniel asked to see the full archive and agreed to suspend further work on Eleanor's petition pending a review.
But as he examined the copy Luca had brought, he noticed something.
“This number.”
He pointed toward the final four digits.
“I've seen it before.”
“Where?” Luca asked.
Daniel slowly opened his briefcase again.
He removed a narrow blue envelope.
“My father gave me this six months before he died. He told me never to open it unless someone from the Moretti family approached me.”
Luca stared.
Daniel looked at Teresa.
“I thought he was being paranoid.”
His hands shook as he broke the seal.
Inside was a small brass key and a handwritten note.
Daniel unfolded the paper.
Then his expression drained.
He read the first sentence aloud.
“If the Morettis ever find you, tell them the boy wasn't purchased for the reason Eleanor claimed.”
Luca leaned forward.
Daniel continued.
“The money wasn't paid for a child.”
He stopped.
I watched his fingers tighten around the paper.
“What does it say?” Luca asked.
May you like
Daniel looked directly at him.
“It says the money was paid to keep a murder from being discovered.”
