Chapter 7 - THE VOICE WE THOUGHT WAS GONE|
Adrian stared at the envelope for so long that I wondered whether he was breathing.
The old nursery was silent.
Rain tapped against the windows.
A loose curtain moved in the draft.
And in his hands was a letter from a mother he'd believed dead for twenty-six years.
"Open it," I whispered.
He shook his head.
I looked at him.
"Adrian?"
His voice cracked.
"What if she hated me for not finding her?"
My chest tightened.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I reached for his hand.
"She thought you were dead."
He looked down.
"She never blamed you."
His eyes filled.
"How can you know?"
"Because she spent my entire childhood loving a little boy she couldn't hold."
I swallowed.
"She wouldn't have blamed him for something adults did."
Adrian closed his eyes.
Then slowly opened the envelope.
Inside were two pages.
The paper had yellowed.
Some of the ink had faded.
But my mother's handwriting was unmistakable.
Adrian began reading silently.
His lips trembled.
Then he stopped.
I waited.
Finally, he looked at me.
"She wrote this six months after the fire."
My heart pounded.
"What does it say?"
He took a shaky breath.
Then read aloud.
"My precious Adrian."
His voice broke immediately.
He pressed the paper against his chest.
I moved closer.
"It's okay."
He shook his head.
"I haven't heard anyone call me that since I was eight."
Tears filled my eyes.
After a moment, he continued.
"If these words ever reach you, then perhaps the world has given us one mercy after all."
"I was told you died in the nursery fire."
"I was shown a certificate and a small grave."
"I have tried to accept what happened, but a mother knows the sound of her child's voice."
Adrian stopped.
His breathing became uneven.
I gently touched his shoulder.
He nodded.
Then continued.
"I remember you calling for me in the garden."
"I remember hearing you say you had saved your sister."
"And I remember someone pulling me away before I could reach you."
My heart broke.
Adrian stared at the page.
"She heard me."
I whispered, "Yes."
He shook his head.
"I thought she didn't."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he continued.
"I am writing this because I no longer trust the men who claim to protect our family."
"If you are alive, remember that none of this was your fault."
"You were eight years old."
"You were brave."
"And you saved your little sister."
A sob escaped his throat.
He covered his face.
I hugged him.
He held me tightly.
For a long time, neither of us said anything.
We were two adults standing in a room that had been empty since our childhood.
Yet for a moment, I could almost imagine her there.
Our mother.
Young.
Alive.
Singing while rain moved across the windows.
Eventually, Adrian pulled away.
He wiped his eyes.
Then looked down at the letter.
"There is more."
He continued reading.
"The men who separated us wanted something hidden inside this house."
"I copied what I overheard before the fire."
"I did not understand every detail, but I knew the documents contained proof of stolen money and false ownership records."
"I hid one recording with Elena and another behind the little red door."
I looked toward the black music box.
Adrian continued.
"The first recording explains what they planned."
"The second identifies who helped them."
My stomach tightened.
"Who helped them?"
Adrian read the final line.
"Trust the voices, my son, even when they belong to people you love."
He lowered the letter.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Katherine stepped forward.
"We should preserve the originals and have specialists examine the recordings."
Adrian nodded.
"I know."
He looked toward the little cassette.
"But I want to hear my mother."
Katherine's expression softened.
"I understand."
Samuel cleared his throat.
"There's an old cassette player in the study downstairs."
We turned toward him.
He looked embarrassed.
"I kept it because the radio doesn't work very well in winter."
Adrian nodded.
"Would you bring it?"
"Of course, sir."
A few minutes later, Samuel returned with a portable cassette player.
Frank checked the device.
Katherine asked permission to document the tape before playback.
Adrian agreed.
Then he held the cassette in his hand.
For a moment, he seemed afraid to move.
I sat beside him.
"Ready?"
He looked at me.
"No."
I smiled sadly.
"Me neither."
He inserted the tape.
Pressed play.
For several seconds, there was only static.
Then a man's voice spoke.
"Lucia, put that recorder away."
I froze.
Adrian leaned forward.
The voice continued.
"You're misunderstanding what you heard."
Then another voice answered.
My mother's voice.
Younger.
Firmer.
"I heard enough."
Adrian closed his eyes.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
I pressed both hands against my mouth.
It was her.
Not the weak voice I'd heard during her final days.
Not the frightened whisper she'd used when she thought someone was following us.
This was my mother as a young woman.
Strong.
Angry.
Determined.
The man's voice continued.
"You have no idea what you're interfering with."
Lucia answered.
"I know you falsified the ownership transfers."
A pause.
"And I know you intend to blame my husband."
Another man spoke.
His voice was rougher.
"Lower your voice."
Adrian went completely still.
He whispered, "Matteo."
The recording continued.
"Your husband has enemies, Lucia."
My mother answered.
"So do you."
The first man laughed.
"You think anyone will believe you?"
She spoke calmly.
"I have copies."
The room became silent except for the soft hiss of the tape.
Then Matteo spoke again.
"Where are they?"
Lucia didn't answer.
He continued.
"Where are the documents?"
"You'll never find them."
A loud sound followed.
Perhaps a chair scraping.
Perhaps someone striking a table.
Then Lucia spoke.
"If anything happens to my children, the truth will come out."
The first man laughed.
"Your children?"
His voice became cold.
"Adrian will inherit what we decide he inherits."
My stomach turned.
"And the girl?"
Another pause.
Then Matteo answered.
"She won't be here long enough to remember."
I stopped breathing.
Adrian's tattooed hands curled into fists.
But my mother's voice remained steady.
"You touch either of my children, and I swear—"
The tape crackled.
A door slammed.
Then the recording ended.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I stared at the cassette player.
My whole body was trembling.
Someone had discussed removing me from my family before I was old enough to speak.
Someone had planned to control Adrian's inheritance.
And our mother had tried to stop them.
Katherine was the first to break the silence.
"We need forensic examination of this recording."
Adrian nodded slowly.
She continued.
"And we need to identify the second man."
I looked toward Adrian.
He was staring at the floor.
"Adrian?"
He didn't answer.
I touched his arm.
He looked up.
His face was pale.
"I know that voice."
My heart pounded.
"Which one?"
"The first man."
I swallowed.
"Who?"
Adrian looked toward Katherine.
Then whispered, "My father's attorney."
The room went still.
Katherine frowned.
"Which attorney?"
Adrian took a breath.
"Richard Hale."
Katherine's expression changed.
I looked between them.
"Who is Richard Hale?"
Adrian swallowed.
"The man who prepared my father's will."
My stomach dropped.
"And?"
He looked directly at me.
"The man who has controlled the Moretti family trust since I turned eighteen."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then Katherine asked a question that made the room even colder.
"Adrian, have you ever seen the original trust documents?"
He shook his head.
"Only certified copies."
She leaned forward.
"Who certified them?"
Adrian stared at her.
Then slowly answered.
"Richard Hale."
I looked toward the music box.
The letter.
The cassette.
The tiny red door.
My mother's voice had survived twenty-six years inside a wall.
And now it was pointing toward a man who still had access to the family's money.
Adrian stood.
"We need the original trust documents."
Katherine nodded.
"I'll request them."
But before she could reach for her phone, Frank's radio crackled.
He listened.
Then turned toward us.
"Mr. Moretti."
Adrian looked up.
"What?"
Frank's expression had changed.
"Security at the mansion just called."
My heart stopped.
"Sophie?"
He shook his head quickly.
"She's safe."
I nearly collapsed with relief.
"Then what's wrong?"
Frank swallowed.
"Someone arrived at the front gate demanding to see you."
Adrian frowned.
"Who?"
Frank hesitated.
Then answered.
"Richard Hale."
Adrian went still.
Frank continued.
"He says he's there to discuss an emergency involving the family trust."
I stared at the cassette.
At the letter.
At Adrian.
May you like
Then Frank added the words that made my blood run cold.
"He claims Elena Moretti has no legal right to use the family name."
