Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO REFUSED TO FORGET
“Margaret knows who authorized it.”
Luca repeated Elena's words while staring at the appointment card.
Then he looked at me.
“Emily, did your mother ever tell you she knew my wife?”
I couldn't answer immediately.
Because suddenly, a memory I'd buried for eleven years came rushing back.
My mother sitting at our kitchen table.
A woman with dark hair visiting our small apartment.
Two cups of tea.
A folded photograph.
And my mother telling me to take Oliver into the bedroom because the grown-ups needed to talk.
“She came to our apartment,” I whispered.
Luca went still.
“Who?”
“Elena.”
Sophia looked up.
“My mommy?”
I nodded slowly.
“I didn't know her name then. But I remember her face.”
Luca opened the old photograph taken outside the recording studio.
“Was this her?”
I studied the picture.
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then Richard Bellini laughed quietly.
“What a remarkable coincidence.”
I turned toward him.
“It wasn't a coincidence.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Really?”
“My mother asked the foundation for help. Your organization approved money in my brother's name. But she never received it.”
Richard spread his hands.
“Miss Carter, charitable organizations handle thousands of cases. Administrative errors happen.”
“Then why did you know who I was?”
His expression hardened.
“Your mother made herself memorable.”
I felt something hot rise in my chest.
“My mother was trying to save her son.”
“And in doing so,” Richard said, “she made accusations she couldn't prove.”
Luca stepped between us.
“Don't speak about her mother that way.”
Richard looked almost amused.
“Your housekeeper has suddenly become an expert witness?”
“No,” Luca answered. “She's become someone whose family was harmed. And you're going to stop treating that as an inconvenience.”
Vanessa moved closer to her father.
“Daddy, don't.”
I noticed the way she said it.
Not angrily.
Fearfully.
And for the first time, I wondered whether Vanessa was frightened of Luca discovering the truth—or frightened of what her own father might do if she told it.
Dr. Weber closed his medical folder.
“Mr. Moretti, I believe this discussion should continue somewhere private. Especially for Sophia.”
Luca nodded.
He knelt beside his daughter.
“Princess, would you like to go upstairs with Emily?”
Sophia shook her head.
“I want to stay with you.”
“I understand. But grown-ups need to talk about some difficult things.”
Her face tightened.
“Are you going to be mad again?”
Luca took both her hands.
“Not at you.”
She studied his mouth.
Then whispered, “Promise?”
“I promise.”
Sophia looked toward me.
“Will you come too?”
“Of course.”
We walked upstairs together.
Behind us, the remaining guests began leaving the mansion.
The engagement dinner was over.
But I knew the terrible part had only begun.
In Sophia's bedroom, the little girl sat beside the window while I helped her change into pajamas.
She placed her hearing aids carefully inside their drying case.
Then she pointed toward the dresser.
“Miss Emily, can you get my butterfly box?”
The small wooden box had belonged to Elena.
Its lid was decorated with painted blue butterflies.
Inside, Sophia kept birthday cards, ribbons, drawings, and little things that reminded her of her mother.
I placed it on her bed.
She opened it carefully.
Then removed a photograph.
It showed Elena sitting beside a younger Sophia at the piano.
Sophia touched her mother's face.
“She smiled when I played wrong notes.”
I sat beside her.
“She loved hearing you try.”
Sophia shook her head gently.
“She couldn't always hear me either.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Mommy said sometimes listening means watching.”
I remembered Luca telling me Elena had become ill before Sophia started school.
I had always assumed that explained her long absence from family photographs.
But now I wondered how much I didn't know.
Sophia turned the picture over.
“Mommy wrote something.”
I read the words.
No one should have to earn the right to be heard.
My throat tightened.
Then Sophia asked a question I wasn't prepared for.
“Did Vanessa make my mommy sick?”
I froze.
“Sweetheart, why would you ask that?”
She looked down.
“Because Grandpa Richard said Mommy asked too many questions.”
I felt cold.
“When did he say that?”
“In the music room. When the men opened the piano.”
“What else did he say?”
Sophia hesitated.
I gently touched her hand.
“You don't have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
She thought for a moment.
Then reached for a blue crayon.
She drew a rectangle.
Inside it, three circles.
And beside them, a small silver ring.
“That's the piano,” she explained. “And that's his hand.”
I nodded.
She added a tiny black square.
“He took something out.”
My pulse quickened.
“What kind of thing?”
“A little box. Like Daddy's watch box.”
“Did you see where he put it?”
She nodded.
“In Vanessa's red bag.”
I looked toward the bedroom door.
Vanessa had carried a red leather handbag throughout the engagement dinner.
I hadn't noticed it when she left the dining room.
“Did your father know?”
Sophia shook her head.
“Grandpa said it belonged to him.”
Then she whispered, “He told Vanessa not to lose it again.”
Again.
The word stayed with me.
I helped Sophia into bed and read her favorite picture book, making sure she could see the pages and my face.
She fell asleep with Elena's photograph tucked beneath her pillow.
Downstairs, Luca was waiting near the study.
His jacket was gone.
His sleeves were rolled up.
He looked exhausted.
“How is she?”
“Sleeping.”
He nodded.
“Thank you.”
I hesitated.
“Mr. Moretti, there's something you should know.”
I told him about Sophia's drawing.
The small box.
Vanessa's red handbag.
When I finished, Luca went very still.
“Daniel searched the music room. He found no box.”
“Perhaps Richard removed it before Daniel arrived.”
Luca stared toward the hallway.
Then spoke quietly.
“Vanessa left her handbag in my study before dinner.”
He opened the door.
On the desk sat the red leather bag.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Luca looked at me.
“This belongs to Vanessa. I need to handle this properly.”
He called Daniel and asked him to bring Vanessa into the study.
She arrived moments later, her face pale from crying.
When she saw the handbag, she stopped.
“What is this?”
Luca pointed toward it.
“Sophia says your father placed a small box inside.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“You've been questioning her?”
“She told me while we were looking at her photographs,” I answered.
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“You have no idea what you've involved yourself in.”
“Then explain it,” Luca said.
She stared at him.
For one moment, I thought she might.
Instead, she picked up the bag.
“It's mine. I'm taking it.”
Luca didn't try to stop her.
“Then you'll need to explain to the investigators why you're refusing to show them an item connected to my wife's records.”
Vanessa gripped the handles.
“You think the police will protect you from my father?”
The question hung between us.
Luca's face changed.
“What does that mean?”
She looked away.
Then, with trembling fingers, she opened the bag.
Inside was a small black case.
She placed it on the desk.
“I never wanted Sophia involved.”
Luca opened the case.
Inside lay a woman's gold wristwatch.
Its face was cracked.
The leather strap was stained and worn.
Luca picked it up.
“Elena's watch.”
Vanessa nodded.
“She wore it to the hospital.”
I watched Luca turn the watch over.
There was an engraving on the back.
For every minute we have. L.
His fingers trembled.
“I gave her this on our first anniversary.”
Vanessa began crying.
“My father told me it had been destroyed.”
“Destroyed?”
“He said Elena left it with him before she got sick. But when I found it in his office, there was something inside.”
Luca looked up.
“What?”
Vanessa pointed toward the back of the watch.
“The engraving plate comes off.”
Luca carefully pressed its edge.
A tiny folded strip of paper slipped into his palm.
On it were three numbers.
And a name.
ACCOUNT 417 — M. CARTER.
I stared at the paper.
“That isn't my mother's bank account.”
Luca looked at Vanessa.
“Then what is it?”
She wiped her eyes.
“I don't know.”
But Luca was looking at another mark inside the watch.
A small symbol etched into the metal.
He reached for Elena's notebook.
Turned to the final page.
And showed us the same symbol.
Beside it, Elena had written:
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, FIND OUT WHY THE HOSPITAL BILLED THE FOUNDATION TWICE.
Luca's voice became a whisper.
“Twice for what?”
Vanessa covered her face.
And said something that made me forget how to breathe.
“Luca... your wife wasn't the only patient connected to Account 417.”
May you like
She looked directly at me.
“Your little brother was the other one.”
