Chapter 2 - The Photograph That Rewrote The Past

The transition from a war zone to a home is never sudden. It happens in quiet, fragile moments.

Three weeks had passed since Victor Bellini died over the lake.

Vanessa had been apprehended at the Canadian border trying to flee with a forged passport. She and Dr. Harris were now sitting in federal holding cells, facing life sentences for extortion, kidnapping, and conspiracy to commit murder.

The mansion was no longer a fortress of secrets. It was just a house.

I was in the kitchen, cutting the crusts off a peanut butter sandwich.

Leo came bounding into the room, wearing a Spiderman t-shirt, his dark hair messy from sleep.

“Good morning, Emma!” he chirped, climbing onto a barstool.

“Good morning, sweetie,” I smiled, sliding the plate in front of him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah! Dad said we can go to the aquarium today!”

My heart warmed at how easily the word Dad came to him now. Luca had spent every waking moment of the last three weeks bonding with the son he thought he’d lost.

But as I watched Leo eat, a heavy, hollow ache settled in my chest.

My contract as a private nurse had expired ten days ago.

The medical crisis was over. Luca wasn’t being poisoned anymore. His blood sugar was perfect. He was healthy, strong, and terrifyingly handsome.

There was no medical reason for me to be here.

And more importantly, I had a mother in Indiana who still refused to use her walker.

I walked back to my guest room. Sitting at the foot of the bed was my small, worn suitcase. It was packed.

I picked up the handles, taking one last look at the luxurious room that had briefly felt like mine.

I carried it downstairs and set it by the massive front doors.

“Going somewhere?”

I turned.

Luca was standing in the doorway of the library. He was wearing a casual gray sweater that made his dark eyes look even deeper.

“My contract is up, Luca,” I said softly, forcing a professional smile. “You’re fully recovered. And my mother needs me.”

Luca walked slowly toward me. He looked at the suitcase, then up at my face.

“I can hire a team of nurses for your mother,” Luca said. “I can buy her a hospital.”

I let out a small laugh. “She would fight them every step of the way. She only listens to me.”

Luca stepped closer. The space between us vanished. I could feel the heat radiating off him.

Since the kiss on the lawn, we had been circling each other. Too much trauma, too much adjusting with Leo, to address what had shifted between us.

“Leo is going to be heartbroken,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

“He has you now,” I replied, looking down at my shoes because looking into his eyes made it too hard to leave. “He doesn’t need a nurse anymore either.”

Luca reached out and placed a gentle finger under my chin, lifting my face until I was forced to look at him.

“I know what my son needs,” Luca whispered. “And I know what I need.”

Before I could process the intensity in his gaze, Leo ran into the foyer, holding his sneakers.

“Emma, are you coming to the aquarium with us?” Leo asked.

Then, the boy stopped. He saw the suitcase by the door.

Leo’s smile completely vanished. The fear that had lived in his eyes at the orphanage suddenly returned.

“Are you leaving?” Leo asked, his voice trembling.

I quickly knelt down to his level. “Leo, honey, I have to go take care of my mom. She’s sick, just like your dad was.”

“But… but you’re supposed to stay here,” Leo sniffled, tears welling up. “You’re the only one who makes my dad smile. And you make the best sandwiches.”

I hugged him tightly, fighting back my own tears. “I’ll come visit, I promise.”

I stood up, wiping my eyes. I couldn’t drag this out.

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase.

“Goodbye, Luca. Thank you for everything.”

I turned and opened the heavy front doors.

Sitting in the circular driveway wasn’t the taxi I had called.

It was a moving truck.

And standing on the front steps, arguing loudly with Marco about the proper way to carry a box of fragile china, was a very familiar seventy-four-year-old woman.

“Mom?” I gasped.

My mother stopped arguing and looked at me.

“Well, don’t just stand there, Emma,” my mother huffed, leaning on her walker. “Tell this giant man in the suit to be careful with my good teacups.”

I dropped my suitcase. I turned around and looked at Luca.

He was standing right behind me, holding a thick manila envelope.