Chapter 11 - The Night My Mother Finally Came Home|
The call came at 4:16 in the morning.
I remember the exact time because I was sitting in Nico's library, reading my mother's birthday letters.
I had reached the one she'd written when I was eighteen.
The age when I'd stopped believing anyone would ever rescue me.
The letter said:
My beautiful girl, I hope you know that growing up doesn't mean becoming someone else's idea of who you should be.
I hope you are learning to say no.
I hope the world is kind to you.
I was crying when my phone rang.
Rebecca.
I answered immediately.
"Nora?"
Her voice sounded different.
Careful.
Almost emotional.
"We found her."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"Eleanor."
I stood so quickly that my chair overturned.
"She's alive?"
"Yes."
I couldn't breathe.
"Where?"
"She's safe. Investigators located her at a private residence in Connecticut. Medical professionals are assessing her condition, and she's receiving independent legal assistance."
My knees weakened.
Nico appeared in the doorway.
He saw my face.
"What happened?"
I covered my mouth.
"Mom."
He froze.
"She's alive."
Nico crossed the room.
I collapsed against him.
For twelve years, I'd dreamed of hearing those words.
Now that they were real, my body didn't know what to do with them.
I laughed.
Then sobbed.
Then laughed again.
Nico held me.
"She's alive," I whispered.
He kissed my forehead.
"She's alive."
Rebecca waited until I could speak.
"She's asked about you."
I closed my eyes.
"What did she say?"
"She asked whether you were safe."
The tears came harder.
Even after twelve years, my mother's first question was about me.
Not the money.
Not the trust.
Not Edmund.
Me.
"When can I see her?"
"We're arranging a meeting as soon as her medical team and attorney confirm she's ready."
I nodded through my tears.
"Okay."
Then Rebecca spoke gently.
"Nora, I need you to be prepared. Your mother has experienced significant trauma and prolonged isolation. Reconnecting may be emotional and complicated."
I swallowed.
"I know."
"She may not be the same person you remember."
I looked toward the letters scattered across the floor.
"Neither am I."
Two days later, Nico drove me to a private recovery center in Connecticut.
I wore a pale-blue dress.
My mother loved that color.
I'd spent an hour trying to decide what to wear.
It felt ridiculous.
Twelve years.
And I was worrying about my clothes.
Nico noticed my trembling hands.
"You look beautiful."
I looked at him.
"What if she doesn't recognize me?"
He took my hand.
"Then you'll introduce yourself."
"What if she hates me?"
His expression softened.
"Nora, she's spent years trying to reach you."
I looked down.
"What if I don't know how to be her daughter anymore?"
Nico thought for a moment.
"Then the two of you can learn how to be together again."
I began crying.
The car stopped.
Inside the recovery center, a counselor greeted us and explained how the reunion would take place.
My mother was waiting in a quiet sitting room.
I stood outside the door.
My hand hovered over the handle.
For a moment, I was twelve again.
Afraid to enter a room.
Afraid of what waited on the other side.
But this time, nobody was forcing me.
I opened the door.
A woman sat beside the window.
Her hair was streaked with silver.
Her face was thinner than I remembered.
Her hands rested in her lap.
She looked fragile.
Tired.
Older than the mother who had kissed me goodbye twelve years earlier.
But when she turned, I knew her.
The eyes.
The smile.
The way she tilted her head.
My breath caught.
"Mom?"
Her hands flew to her mouth.
For several seconds, she stared at me.
Then she stood.
"Nora?"
I nodded.
Her face crumpled.
"My baby."
I crossed the room.
She opened her arms.
And I fell into them.
The sound that escaped us was impossible to describe.
Twelve years of grief.
Twelve years of stolen birthdays.
Twelve years of wondering whether the other was dead.
All of it broke open in that embrace.
My mother held my face between her hands.
"You're alive."
I sobbed.
"So are you."
She pressed kisses to my forehead.
My cheeks.
My hair.
"I thought I'd lost you."
I held her tighter.
"Dad told me you died."
Her entire body trembled.
"He told me the same thing."
We cried together.
For a long time, neither of us could speak.
Then she pulled back.
Her eyes moved toward my shoulders.
The neckline of my dress had slipped slightly.
She saw one of the old scars.
Her face changed.
"Nora."
I looked down.
She touched the edge of the mark with trembling fingers.
"What happened?"
My throat closed.
I tried to answer.
Couldn't.
Then she whispered:
"Did Edmund do this?"
I nodded.
My mother's face crumpled.
She covered her mouth.
"No."
I began crying again.
She pulled me close.
"I'm sorry."
"Mom, you didn't know."
"I tried to come back."
"I know."
"I wrote letters."
"I have them."
Her eyes widened.
"You do?"
I nodded.
"Every birthday."
She began sobbing harder.
We held each other until the counselor gently suggested a break.
Later, Nico entered the room.
My mother studied him carefully.
"Nico Ferrara?"
He nodded.
"Mrs. Ashford."
She looked at our joined hands.
Then at me.
"Are you happy?"
The question caught me off guard.
I thought of the wedding.
The fear.
The bargain.
The scars.
Then I thought of Nico giving me the documents that would allow me to leave.
I looked at my mother.
"I'm learning what happy feels like."
She smiled sadly.
"That's a good start."
Nico stepped back, giving us space.
My mother watched him leave.
Then she took my hand.
"Nora, there's something I need to tell you."
My heart tightened.
"What?"
"Your father didn't keep me hidden only because of the trust."
I stared at her.
She looked toward the closed door.
"Before I disappeared, I discovered something about Atlantic Meridian."
My stomach turned.
"What?"
She squeezed my hand.
"The company was being used to move stolen money. And I found records suggesting Alessandro Ferrara had begun helping me expose it."
I felt cold.
"Then why did he die?"
My mother's eyes filled.
"I don't know exactly what happened to him. But I know he was afraid."
She paused.
"And I know Edmund wasn't working alone."
I leaned closer.
"Who else?"
She looked directly into my eyes.
"Someone inside the Ferrara organization."
My heart stopped.
Then she whispered a name.
"Victor Salerno."
Nico's oldest business adviser.
The man who had been handling Marco's investigation.
May you like
The man Nico trusted more than almost anyone.
And the man who had personally recommended that Nico accept my father's marriage bargain.
