Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Was Supposed to Be Dead|
Luca Moretti rarely spoke about his younger brother.
Michael Moretti had disappeared seven years earlier during a violent dispute involving the family's shipping business.
His car was found abandoned near the river.
There were reports of gunfire.
Blood inside the vehicle.
No body.
After months of searching, the family accepted that Michael was dead.
At least, that was what the household staff believed.
Now Caroline's final letter suggested he had been at her hospital three years ago.
Four years after his supposed death.
Luca sat in his office staring at the paper.
Marco stood beside the desk.
I remained near the doorway.
I should have returned to my work.
But Luca had asked me to stay.
And after everything that had happened, I couldn't imagine pretending this was an ordinary morning.
"Marco," Luca said quietly, "find out whether Michael entered that hospital under another name."
Marco nodded.
"We'll need archived records."
"Then request them through counsel."
"Understood."
Luca looked toward me.
"Claire."
"Yes, sir?"
"Did Caroline ever mention Michael to Benjamin?"
I thought carefully.
"Benjamin once said his mother had a brother-in-law who brought him toy trains."
Luca's expression changed.
"Toy trains?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
He stared.
"Michael collected model trains when we were children."
My stomach tightened.
For a moment, he looked almost hopeful.
Then the hope vanished.
He turned back toward Marco.
"Find the evidence before anyone makes assumptions."
Marco nodded.
That afternoon, I went upstairs to check on Benjamin.
He was sitting on the carpet beside his bed, drawing.
When he saw me, he smiled.
"Miss Claire!"
"Hi, sweetheart."
He held up the picture.
It showed a house.
Three people.
And a large brown dog.
I smiled.
"Is that your family?"
Benjamin nodded.
"Me, Daddy, and Mommy."
My heart tightened.
Caroline stood in the drawing wearing a yellow dress.
I remembered Mrs. Carter telling me yellow had been her favorite color.
I sat beside him.
"It's beautiful."
Benjamin looked at the paper.
Then whispered:
"Can I ask something?"
"Of course."
"Does Daddy still love Mommy?"
I swallowed.
"I think he always will."
Benjamin nodded slowly.
"Then why was he going to marry Vanessa?"
The question caught me off guard.
I didn't want to explain adult relationships in a way that would confuse or hurt him.
So I answered carefully.
"Sometimes people can love someone who has died and still hope to build a happy future."
Benjamin considered that.
"But Vanessa didn't like Mommy."
I looked at him.
"No."
He lowered his eyes.
"She said I had to stop talking about her."
My heart tightened.
I took a breath.
"Benjamin, you can remember your mother whenever you want."
He looked up.
"Even when I'm big?"
"Especially then."
He smiled faintly.
Then he returned to his drawing.
A few minutes later, he whispered:
"Miss Claire?"
"Yes?"
"Can you ask Daddy something?"
"What?"
Benjamin hesitated.
"Ask him if Uncle Mike is really gone."
My stomach dropped.
I turned toward him.
"Uncle Mike?"
He nodded.
"My mommy's friend."
I felt cold.
"What do you remember about him?"
Benjamin frowned.
"He came when Mommy was sick."
My heart raced.
"To the hospital?"
He nodded.
Then said something that made my skin prickle.
"He brought her a blue book."
The missing notebook.
I stared.
"Benjamin, did you see him?"
He nodded.
"I was little."
I swallowed.
"Do you remember what he looked like?"
Benjamin thought carefully.
Then pointed toward a framed photograph on his shelf.
It showed Luca and another man standing beside a boat.
The younger man had dark hair and a broad smile.
"That's Uncle Mike."
My heart stopped.
I looked at the photograph.
Then back at Benjamin.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I carefully asked:
"Did he talk to Mommy?"
Benjamin's face changed.
He looked toward the door.
Then whispered:
"They were arguing."
My stomach tightened.
"About what?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
I didn't press him.
He was nine.
The memory was years old.
And I knew it wouldn't be fair to turn a child's recollection into an interrogation.
Instead, I thanked him for telling me and later informed Luca, suggesting that any further discussion be handled by someone qualified to support Benjamin.
Luca listened carefully.
Then called his attorney.
That evening, a private investigator arrived with preliminary findings.
Michael Moretti's name appeared in archived hospital visitor records.
Not as Michael.
Under the name:
Daniel Carter.
Luca stared.
"Daniel Carter?"
The investigator nodded.
"The visitor's identification information appears inconsistent."
Marco leaned forward.
"Did he sign in to see Caroline?"
"Yes."
Luca closed his eyes.
Then asked:
"Who authorized the visit?"
The investigator hesitated.
"Richard Bellini."
Silence.
The same man connected to Vanessa's attempt to send Benjamin away.
The same man Caroline had warned Luca not to trust.
The same man who had encouraged the engagement.
Luca looked toward the window.
Then said quietly:
"Find my brother."
Before anyone could answer, his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He stared at the screen.
Then answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice spoke.
Older.
Rougher.
But unmistakably familiar.
"Hello, Enzo."
Luca stopped breathing.
Nobody had called him Enzo since childhood.
Except one person.
His brother.
"Michael?"
A soft laugh.
"Miss me?"
Luca's face went white.
"Where are you?"
A pause.
Then Michael whispered:
"Ask Caroline's little housemaid why her father was at the hospital the night your wife died."
Luca slowly turned toward me.
May you like
My heart stopped.
Because my father had died thirteen years earlier.
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