Chapter 5 - SALVATORE’S SON
“Yes.”
One word.
Fifty-eight years of damage.
Claire stared at Salvatore.
Damian did not move.
Victoria covered her mouth.
Vincent looked toward the rain-dark window as though he had been waiting his entire life for somebody else to hear it.
Salvatore’s voice shook.
“Anthony was my biological son.”
Claire struggled to understand.
“With Rose?”
“Yes.”
“So you had an affair with my great-aunt.”
“No.”
Claire’s expression hardened.
Salvatore lifted his eyes.
“Rose and I loved each other before I married Elena.”
That didn't make it better.
But it made it different.
“My father chose Elena’s family because the marriage benefited the business. Rose was twenty-two. I was twenty-four. I was a coward.”
Claire said nothing.
“I married Elena.”
“And Rose was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“Did Elena know?”
“Not then.”
Vincent gave a humorless laugh.
“She found out at the hospital.”
Everything clicked.
Elena hadn't randomly taken Rose’s baby.
She had taken her husband’s child.
Victoria whispered, “Grandma knew Anthony was Grandpa’s son.”
“Yes.”
Damian finally spoke.
“So she raised the child her husband had with another woman.”
Salvatore nodded.
“And loved him.”
Claire stared.
That was the reversal she had not expected.
“Elena loved Anthony?”
“More than anything.”
“Then why switch him?”
“She didn't.”
Everyone stopped.
Salvatore wiped his face.
“Evelyn Carver did.”
“Why?”
“Because Robert asked her to.”
Claire stared at Robert’s photograph.
Robert had married Rose.
He had helped steal Rose’s child?
Salvatore continued.
“Robert loved Rose too. He knew she loved me. When I married Elena, Robert stayed beside Rose.”
“That still doesn't explain stealing her baby.”
“No.”
Salvatore’s voice became quiet.
“He wasn't trying to steal Anthony from Rose.”
“He was trying to hide who Anthony’s father was.”
Damian understood first.
“From Giovanni.”
Salvatore nodded.
“My father discovered Rose was pregnant. He threatened her.”
Claire felt sick.
“What kind of threat?”
“He told her if the child was mine, he would make sure she never raised him.”
Vincent looked at Claire.
“That is the part Margaret feared.”
Claire touched her necklace.
“So Robert and Evelyn made Giovanni believe Rose’s baby died.”
“Yes.”
“And put Anthony with Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Did Elena agree?”
“Not initially.”
Salvatore looked down.
“She woke up holding Anthony. Evelyn told her that her biological baby had died and Rose’s child needed protection.”
Victoria whispered, “And Grandma kept him.”
“She intended to return him.”
“But she didn't.”
“No.”
Salvatore closed his eyes.
“She fell in love with him.”
Damian walked to the window.
Claire could imagine the impossible choices.
Rose had lost her child to protect him.
Elena had raised the living proof of her husband’s love for another woman.
Robert had accepted a marriage to a woman who loved somebody else.
None of them were innocent.
None were simple villains either.
“What happened to Elena’s baby?” Damian asked.
Salvatore looked toward Vincent.
“Robert found him.”
“When?”
“1975.”
The year Rose returned.
Damian turned.
“That was why Rose came back.”
“Yes.”
“She wasn't coming for Anthony.”
“No.”
“She came to tell you your biological son was alive.”
Salvatore nodded.
“Robert had found records proving Evelyn hadn't let the baby die.”
“Where was he?”
Salvatore looked at Vincent.
Vincent answered.
“With the Carver family.”
Claire frowned.
“Robert’s family?”
“Evelyn arranged a private adoption through her sister.”
Damian rubbed his forehead.
“So my father Anthony was Salvatore and Rose’s son. Salvatore and Elena’s biological son was raised by Carvers.”
“Yes.”
“And Robert Carver?”
Vincent's voice became rough.
“He spent years trying to bring everybody together without exposing Anthony to Giovanni.”
“What happened in 1975?”
Vincent looked at Salvatore.
“Tell him.”
Salvatore shook his head.
“You saw more than I did.”
Vincent stood beside Damian.
“I followed Grandpa’s car. I saw Rose meet Robert.”
He paused.
“Another car arrived.”
“Giovanni?”
“Yes.”
Salvatore stared at him.
“You never told me.”
“You were gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Looking for Rose.”
Claire whispered, “What happened?”
“Giovanni confronted Robert. They argued. Rose ran.”
“Did he hurt her?”
“No.”
Vincent's voice softened.
“That was another lie I allowed everyone to believe.”
He reached into the trunk and removed a folded piece of paper.
Not a legal document.
A child’s school program.
ST. AGNES ELEMENTARY SPRING CONCERT, 1976.
One name had been circled.
ROSE CARVER — PARENT VOLUNTEER
Claire stared.
“She was alive.”
“Yes.”
“For years after she disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't she contact Margaret?”
“She did.”
Claire recoiled.
“My grandmother knew?”
“For a while.”
The betrayal hurt unexpectedly.
Margaret had spent Claire’s childhood telling stories about family loyalty.
Yet she had hidden an entire sister.
“Why?”
“Because Rose had found Salvatore’s biological son.”
Damian leaned forward.
“And?”
Vincent looked at Claire.
“She helped raise him.”
Claire felt another piece move.
“Who?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Rose and Robert never had children together. But after Evelyn died, they took responsibility for the boy she had hidden.”
Salvatore whispered, “My son.”
“Yes.”
“What was his name?”
Vincent looked directly at Damian.
“Michael Carver.”
Damian’s expression changed.
Claire noticed.
“You know him?”
Damian said nothing.
Victoria did.
“Dad’s accountant.”
Claire looked between them.
“Who?”
Victoria stared at her brother.
“Michael Carver worked for our father for thirty years.”
Damian’s voice was almost inaudible.
“He wasn't just his accountant.”
Anthony Marino and Michael Carver had been best friends.
Claire felt chills.
The two boys switched by adults had grown up and somehow found each other.
“Did they know?”
Vincent nodded.
“Eventually.”
“When?”
“Before Damian was born.”
Damian turned sharply.
“Then Michael knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“All my life?”
“Yes.”
Damian's jaw tightened.
“Where is Michael now?”
Nobody answered.
Then Claire remembered something.
Her grandmother’s funeral.
A man she didn't recognize had stood far behind everyone else.
Gray hair.
Brown coat.
He had left before the burial.
But before leaving, he had placed something beside Margaret’s coffin.
Claire had assumed it was from an old friend.
A small bundle of wildflowers.
Exactly like the flowers engraved on her necklace.
Claire looked at Vincent.
“Michael was at my grandmother’s funeral.”
Vincent’s face changed.
“How do you know?”
“I saw him.”
Damian pulled out his phone, opened an old photograph, and showed her Michael.
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“That’s him.”
Salvatore stood so quickly his cane fell.
“If Michael knows Margaret is dead, he'll come for the necklace.”
Claire stepped back.
“Why?”
“Because your necklace isn't proof of Anthony’s identity.”
May you like
Salvatore pointed to the pendant.
“It’s the key to where Margaret hid the proof of Michael’s.”
