Chapter 8
Daniel Reyes arrived twenty minutes later.
He was fifty-eight, broad-shouldered, gray at the temples, and unimpressed by wealth.
Giovanni had always liked that about him.
Today he needed it.
Reyes studied the photograph.
“Rebecca Shaw. Adrian Cross. Leonard Hale.”
“Yes.”
“When was this taken?”
“About fifteen years ago.”
“And you're telling me all three were involved in unauthorized psychological treatment?”
Giovanni nodded.
Reyes looked at him.
“Treatment on you.”
“Yes.”
“You understand how insane this sounds.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Reyes placed the photograph on the desk.
“Because if you were telling me this calmly, I'd be worried.”
Emilio crossed his arms.
“So what do we do?”
“We stop behaving like a family and start behaving like witnesses.”
Marco frowned.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you stop protecting each other.”
Reyes looked at Giovanni.
“You especially.”
Giovanni accepted it.
Reyes continued.
“I want every document. Every recording. Every text. Every financial record.”
Sofia held up several drives.
“Copies are ready.”
“Good.”
Reyes looked at her.
“You're Sofia?”
“Yes.”
He studied her resemblance to Clarissa for half a second, then moved on.
No questions.
No staring.
Sofia noticed.
She appreciated it.
Reyes asked, “Where is Leonard?”
“Missing.”
“Rebecca?”
“Missing.”
“Cross?”
“Unknown.”
“Then we have three priorities.”
He counted on his fingers.
“Find Leonard alive. Find Rebecca before she destroys evidence. Find Cross before somebody else does.”
Giovanni frowned.
“Somebody else?”
“People who keep secrets this long don't usually retire peacefully.”
Reyes inspected Elena's study.
He noticed the displaced painting.
The open drawers.
The missing metronome.
Then he crouched beside the desk.
“What?”
Giovanni asked.
Reyes pointed.
“Scratch marks.”
Under the bottom drawer.
He removed it completely.
Behind it was a small taped key.
Clarissa inhaled.
“Mom.”
The key had a number.
317.
Emilio frowned.
“Locker?”
“Could be.”
Sofia photographed it.
Reyes slipped it into an evidence bag.
“Any airports? Train stations? Banks Elena used?”
Giovanni thought.
“Grand Central.”
Clarissa looked at him.
“Mom had meetings in Manhattan every Thursday.”
Reyes nodded.
“Could be a storage locker.”
Sofia checked the number online.
“Grand Central doesn't have public lockers anymore.”
“Bus terminal?”
“Maybe.”
Emilio suddenly looked toward the old brass key.
“Safe-deposit box.”
Everyone turned.
“The number format,” he said. “Looks like one.”
Giovanni frowned.
“Elena didn't have a private box.”
Reyes looked at him.
“You're still assuming your wife told you things.”
Giovanni said nothing.
Fair.
Reyes called contacts.
Within an hour, they had an answer.
First Atlantic Bank.
Midtown branch.
Safe-deposit box 317.
Registered to Elena Lucia Moretti.
Opened twenty-two years ago.
The year Clarissa and Sofia were born.
Giovanni looked at the clock.
Bank closed in ninety minutes.
They drove immediately.
Giovanni, Clarissa, Sofia, Emilio, and Reyes went inside.
Marco stayed with Victoria.
The bank manager recognized Giovanni.
That made things harder, not easier.
Elena was dead.
Legal access required documentation.
Giovanni lost patience.
Reyes didn't.
He quietly showed his retired badge, explained that potential evidence in a suspicious death might be inside, and made a phone call.
Thirty minutes later, a detective from the district attorney's office arrived with emergency authority to preserve the contents.
Giovanni wasn't allowed to touch anything.
But he could watch.
Box 317 slid from the vault wall.
The manager placed it on a table.
The key turned.
Inside:
A stack of photographs.
Three cassette tapes.
A sealed DNA report.
An old hospital bracelet.
A handwritten diary.
And a small black notebook.
Reyes looked at Giovanni.
“Recognize any of this?”
Giovanni picked nothing up.
“The diary is Elena's.”
Clarissa stared.
“Mom never kept a diary.”
“She did when we were first married.”
The DA investigator photographed everything.
Then opened the DNA report.
Everyone held their breath.
Test date: eight weeks earlier.
Subjects:
Sofia Alvarez.
Clarissa Moretti.
Victoria Moretti.
Giovanni Moretti.
Giovanni frowned.
“How did Elena get my DNA?”
Emilio almost laughed.
“You lived with her.”
Fair again.
The report's conclusion:
Sofia and Clarissa shared no biological twin relationship.
Clarissa was the biological child of Giovanni Moretti and Elena Moretti.
Sofia showed a second-degree genetic relationship to Giovanni Moretti.
Consistent with half-sibling or niece.
Sofia closed her eyes.
Victoria had told the truth.
At least about that part.
Then Reyes read the next page.
Sofia showed a parent-child relationship to Antonio Moretti.
Emilio stared.
“Grandpa?”
“Yes,” Reyes said.
Sofia whispered, “So he was my father.”
“And Elena carried you,” Clarissa said.
Sofia looked at her.
“She was still your mother.”
Sofia's eyes filled.
“I know.”
Giovanni moved to the black notebook.
The investigator opened it.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Initials.
One entry repeated dozens of times.
R.S.
Another:
A.C.
Adrian Cross.
And another:
L.H.
Leonard Hale.
But the largest payments went to:
V.
Giovanni stared.
“Victoria?”
Reyes shook his head.
“Maybe.”
Emilio looked at the totals.
“These payments continued after Grandma says she stopped.”
Sofia pointed toward a note beside the initial.
V-2.
Clarissa frowned.
“What's V-2?”
Nobody knew.
Reyes opened Elena's diary.
The first pages were twenty-two years old.
The investigator read selected entries aloud.
August 4.
Dr. Vale says there are two heartbeats.
I am terrified to tell Gio because he will blame himself for missing so much.
August 19.
Victoria knows.
She came to the clinic.
She was furious with Vale.
September 2.
Victoria told me the second baby cannot be born.
I told her if she says that again, she will never see Emilio or this child.
Giovanni clenched his jaw.
Clarissa squeezed his hand.
The next entry was after the birth.
January 14.
They told me Baby B died.
I know they are lying.
I heard her cry.
I heard both of them.
I heard my daughters.
Sofia covered her mouth.
January 15.
Victoria told me the truth.
The embryo was Antonio's.
She thinks blood changes what I feel.
She is wrong.
I carried that baby.
She is mine.
Giovanni looked at Sofia.
Sofia was crying now.
Silently.
Clarissa wrapped an arm around her.
The investigator continued.
January 16.
They moved her.
Vale says it is done.
I will find her.
I swear I will find her.
Then the diary skipped seven years.
A new entry.
May 11.
Rosa called.
Sofia is alive.
She is beautiful.
She has Clarissa's smile even though they do not share blood.
Maybe love leaves fingerprints too.
Clarissa started sobbing.
Sofia leaned into her.
May 14.
I told Giovanni tonight.
He knows.
The room went still.
Giovanni stared at the diary.
“No.”
The investigator read again.
I told Giovanni tonight.
He knows.
He broke a lamp.
Then he cried.
He kept asking where she was.
He said, “Bring my daughter home.”
Giovanni covered his face.
A memory appeared.
Elena sitting on their bed.
A picture in her hands.
A child on a beach.
His own voice.
Bring her home.
He gasped.
Clarissa grabbed him.
“Dad?”
“I remember.”
Everyone froze.
“What?”
“I remember that.”
He looked at Sofia.
“I called you my daughter.”
Sofia cried harder.
Giovanni's voice shook.
“I wanted you home.”
The diary continued.
May 15.
Someone tried to burn Rosa's car.
Gio is terrified.
He believes this came from inside the family.
He says we cannot bring Sofia home until we know who did it.
May 16.
Gio went to confront Victoria.
He thinks she arranged the attack.
Victoria denies it.
May 17.
Gio's car was forced off the road.
The room went silent.
May 18.
Victoria brought in Cross.
She says he is helping Gio recover.
I don't trust him.
May 20.
Gio doesn't remember Sofia.
I said her name today.
He looked at me like I was speaking about a stranger.
I confronted Cross.
He told me memory loss is temporary.
I don't believe him.
May 25.
I tried to show Gio Sofia's photograph.
Rebecca stopped me.
She said Cross warned against triggering memories.
I told Rebecca to leave my house.
Victoria brought her back the next morning.
Giovanni turned to Reyes.
“Rebecca was never Elena's assistant originally.”
“What was she?”
“My mother's.”
Reyes nodded slowly.
“That's important.”
The diary continued.
June 1.
Gio saw Sofia's picture again.
He collapsed.
Cross came.
Afterward, Gio remembered even less.
I am afraid they are doing something to him.
June 4.
Leonard made me sign a confidentiality agreement.
I tore it in half.
June 9.
Victoria threatened to take Emilio and Clarissa away if I exposed the clinic.
Giovanni's face became murderous.
Clarissa whispered, “Grandma did what?”
The investigator continued.
June 12.
I moved Sofia to San Cordova.
Only Marco and Rosa know.
If Giovanni recovers, I will tell him everything.
If he doesn't, I will protect all three children myself.
Giovanni sat down.
For fifteen years, Elena had done exactly that.
Alone.
The investigator turned to the final pages.
Recent entries.
Six weeks earlier.
July 22.
Rosa found Vale's old files.
Cross was paid by someone called V-2.
Not Victoria.
I asked Leonard.
He went pale.
July 24.
Leonard finally told me who V-2 is.
I cannot believe it.
I wish he were lying.
July 25.
I confronted Rebecca.
She admitted Cross was still treating Giovanni without his knowledge.
She says V-2 ordered it.
July 26.
I told Rebecca I am going to the police.
She begged me to wait.
July 27.
Someone entered my study.
The metronome was moved.
July 28.
Giovanni lost six hours last night.
When he returned, he asked where Sofia was.
I pretended not to know the name.
July 29.
I am going to San Cordova.
If anything happens to me, V-2 is responsible.
Reyes turned the page.
Nothing.
The final page had been torn out.
Emilio cursed.
“Of course.”
Reyes examined the binding.
“Recently removed.”
“By who?”
The bank manager shook his head.
“Nobody accessed this box after Mrs. Moretti's last visit.”
“When?”
“Four weeks ago.”
Giovanni frowned.
Four weeks ago.
Before Elena died.
Meaning Elena herself may have removed the final page.
Sofia searched the box.
“Maybe she moved it somewhere else.”
Clarissa lifted the hospital bracelet.
Something rattled inside the plastic bag.
A tiny folded strip of paper.
The investigator opened it carefully.
One sentence.
IF I DIE, ASK LEONARD WHAT V-2 DID TO REBECCA'S DAUGHTER.
Everyone stared.
Reyes immediately asked, “Rebecca has a daughter?”
Giovanni shook his head.
“Not that I know of.”
Emilio searched public records.
Rebecca Shaw.
No marriage.
No listed children.
Sofia tried old databases.
Then she froze.
“I found a birth record.”
“What?”
“Rebecca gave birth at nineteen.”
“Name?”
Sofia read.
“Vanessa Rose Shaw.”
Clarissa frowned.
“I've never heard of her.”
“Adopted at birth.”
“By whom?”
Sofia opened another record.
Then she looked up.
“You all know her.”
Giovanni stepped closer.
“Who?”
Sofia turned the laptop.
The adoption name appeared.
Vanessa Rose Hale.
Emilio stared.
“Hale?”
Sofia nodded.
“Leonard Hale adopted Rebecca's daughter.”
Giovanni's blood went cold.
Then Reyes asked the question that changed everything.
“Does Leonard have a daughter named Vanessa?”
Giovanni slowly shook his head.
“No.”
“Then where is she?”
Nobody knew.
Until Clarissa whispered:
“Vanessa isn't his daughter anymore.”
Everyone looked at her.
Clarissa's face had gone white.
“I know that name.”
“From where?” Emilio asked.
“Mom's Christmas list.”
“What?”
“Every year Mom sent money to a woman named Vanessa Cross.”
Sofia stared.
“Cross?”
Clarissa nodded.
Reyes spoke slowly.
“Rebecca Shaw's biological daughter was adopted by Leonard Hale.”
He looked toward Giovanni.
“And later became Vanessa Cross.”
Giovanni finished it.
“Adrian Cross's wife.”
No one moved.
The entire conspiracy suddenly became a family.
Rebecca.
Leonard.
Cross.
Their lives had been tied together for decades.
Sofia's phone rang.
Unknown number.
Reyes motioned for everyone to remain silent.
Sofia answered.
A woman spoke.
Young.
Crying.
“Is this Sofia?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Vanessa Cross.”
Everyone froze.
Sofia put the call on speaker.
Vanessa whispered:
“My husband knows you have Elena's files.”
Sofia looked at Reyes.
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because he's watching.”
“Adrian?”
“Yes.”
Sofia swallowed.
“What do you want?”
Vanessa began sobbing.
“To help you.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena tried to save me.”
Giovanni stepped closer.
“From Cross?”
Vanessa heard his voice.
She stopped crying.
“Giovanni?”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence.
Then Vanessa whispered:
“Oh, God. You still don't know.”
Giovanni's blood turned cold.
“Know what?”
“My husband wasn't conditioning you to obey him.”
“Then who?”
Vanessa's voice shook.
“He was conditioning you to obey your father.”
Giovanni stared.
“My father died twenty-four years ago.”
Vanessa answered:
“No, Giovanni.”
May you like
A pause.
“Antonio Moretti is alive.”
