Chapter 7 - THE CHILD ELENA NEVER SURRENDERED
“My mother was one of the seven?”
Alessandro stared at Marco.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
His mother had raised two children.
Him.
And Sophia.
There had never been another baby in the family.
At least, none he remembered.
“That's impossible,” he finally said.
Marco carefully unfolded the strip of paper.
“Your mother was included in the original complaint. Her name appeared under a different surname.”
“What surname?”
“Bellini.”
Alessandro froze.
Elena Bellini had been his mother's maiden name.
Marco continued.
“She used it when she first investigated the foundation.”
“Then she wasn't one of the victims. She was working with them.”
“Maybe.”
Alessandro turned toward Vanessa.
“Did your father know?”
Vanessa nodded.
“He talked about Elena as though she had betrayed him.”
“How?”
“He said she had kept something that belonged to the foundation.”
Alessandro felt his anger rise.
“A child isn't property.”
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
“I know that now.”
Alessandro looked at the bracelet again.
The seventh mother never lost her child.
He remembered his mother telling Sophia that no one could ever decide her worth.
He remembered her insisting that Alessandro treat the servants respectfully.
And he remembered the way she always grew quiet whenever Vittorio mentioned family bloodlines.
There was a secret there.
But he didn't understand it.
Not yet.
The next morning, Detective Whitcomb received the bracelet as evidence.
She arranged an examination of the numbered markings while continuing to pursue William Caldwell.
Alessandro was asked to provide information about his mother's charitable activities.
He cooperated.
Then he went to St. Catherine's.
Isabella was finishing her cleaning shift when he found her in the public waiting area.
She had changed into a plain blue uniform.
Her dark curls were pinned back.
She looked tired.
“Mr. Moretti.”
He held out an envelope.
She immediately stiffened.
“What is that?”
“Your unpaid wages from the final month. The compensation you were denied. And a written acknowledgment that your dismissal was unjust.”
Isabella didn't take it.
“Is this supposed to make everything disappear?”
“No.”
He lowered the envelope.
“It's what you were owed.”
She studied him.
“Then why bring it yourself?”
“Because I should have been the one to hear you three months ago.”
Her eyes softened slightly.
But she didn't smile.
“I lost my apartment after that accusation,” she said. “Nobody wanted to hire a maid accused of stealing from the Morettis.”
Alessandro looked stricken.
“I didn't know.”
“You didn't ask.”
He nodded.
“You're right.”
She took the envelope.
Not because she had forgiven him.
Because she had earned every dollar.
Then she looked at him.
“How's the baby?”
“Rebecca says he's doing well. They're arranging temporary care while they investigate.”
Isabella smiled.
“He likes being held with his cheek against your shoulder. He falls asleep faster that way.”
Alessandro glanced toward the nursery wing.
“Do you think Sophia is his mother?”
“I think she wanted him somewhere safe.”
He nodded.
Then Isabella reached into her pocket.
“I remembered something else.”
She held out a small photograph.
It showed a woman in a gray coat standing near the hospital entrance.
Her face was partly obscured.
“I took this before my shift because I thought the car was blocking the emergency entrance.”
Alessandro studied the image.
The woman's face was unclear.
But around her neck hung a delicate silver necklace.
A tiny golden crown.
He recognized it immediately.
His mother had given Sophia that necklace on her sixteenth birthday.
His breath caught.
“That's her.”
Isabella watched his face.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the photograph again.
For five years, he had wondered whether Sophia was alive.
Now he had proof.
And something else.
Hope.
Detective Whitcomb examined the photograph that afternoon.
The hospital's records suggested the gray-coated woman had entered through a staff corridor several times over the preceding month.
Each time, she had asked about a maternity nurse named Patricia Ellis.
Whitcomb arranged to interview Patricia.
She was sixty-eight and had worked at St. Catherine's for forty-two years.
When Alessandro entered the interview room with the detective, Patricia looked at him sadly.
“You have your mother's eyes.”
Alessandro stopped.
“You knew her?”
“Very well.”
He sat slowly.
“Then tell me what happened.”
Patricia folded her hands.
“Elena came to me twelve years ago. She was frightened.”
“Of my father?”
“Of what she'd discovered.”
Patricia explained that seven women had approached Elena after their babies disappeared through questionable adoption arrangements.
Elena had promised to help them.
But one case was different.
“The seventh woman,” Patricia said, “wasn't a mother who lost her child.”
Alessandro leaned forward.
“She was my mother?”
Patricia shook her head.
“Elena put her own name on that list to protect someone else.”
“Who?”
Patricia looked at him.
“A young woman who gave birth in secret.”
Alessandro felt the room tilt.
“Who was she?”
Patricia hesitated.
“Elena promised never to reveal her name unless the child was in danger.”
“The child is grown now,” Alessandro said.
Patricia nodded.
“And that child has spent an entire lifetime believing a lie.”
She reached into her handbag.
Inside was a faded hospital photograph.
Two women stood beside a newborn baby.
One was Elena Moretti.
The other was much younger.
Her face was partially hidden by her hair.
But Alessandro recognized the necklace around her throat.
A small gold crown.
His mother had owned one exactly like it.
“Who is the baby?” he whispered.
Patricia looked at him.
Her eyes filled.
“Alessandro, the child Elena protected was Sophia.”
The room went silent.
May you like
Patricia continued.
“And the woman who gave birth to your sister wasn't Elena Moretti.”
