Chapter 4 - The Secret Inside Her Husband's Bible|
By eleven fifteen, the engagement dinner was officially over.
The last guests had driven away.
The musicians had packed their instruments.
And the mansion, which had glittered with celebration only hours earlier, felt like a house waiting for bad news.
Matteo stood in his father's old study when Rosa and I entered.
Luca sat near the fireplace.
Scarlett and Elliot Hayes had already left after Matteo refused to continue discussing the sale without independent counsel.
Celeste Whitmore had also departed, leaving copies of the contract with Matteo.
I noticed that Luca wouldn't look at his brother.
Matteo turned toward Rosa.
"Tell me everything you saw."
She explained about the two men.
She described the boxes.
She gave him the approximate time.
Then I handed him the shipping label.
He read it without speaking.
For a moment, he seemed almost relieved to have something concrete to investigate.
"Thank you both."
Luca suddenly stood.
"Those were old records."
Matteo looked at him.
"How do you know?"
"Because I authorized their removal."
The room became silent.
Matteo placed the label on his desk.
"Where are they?"
"With the attorney handling the sale."
"Which attorney?"
Luca rubbed his forehead.
"Daniel Price."
Matteo reached for his phone.
"Then I'll ask him to return them."
Luca moved toward the door.
"You're making a mistake."
Matteo looked up.
"The only mistake I've made tonight was trusting you."
Luca stopped.
Something painful flickered across his face.
"There's more going on than you understand."
"Then stop hiding it."
But Luca only shook his head.
"I can't."
He left the room before Matteo could answer.
I watched him disappear down the corridor.
For the first time, I wondered whether the older Russo brother was frightened of someone other than Matteo.
Matteo turned back to me.
"Anna, I need to ask about the document Mom signed."
I nodded.
"She believed it was permission for transportation."
"Did you see anyone explain it to her?"
"No."
"Did anyone suggest she wasn't capable of understanding?"
I hesitated.
"Scarlett has been saying that lately."
His expression darkened.
"How often?"
"Several times during the past month."
I told him about the forgotten glasses, the repeated questions, and Scarlett's habit of answering for Evelyn whenever visitors came.
Matteo listened without interrupting.
Then he pressed his fingers against his eyes.
"I should have noticed."
I wasn't sure what to say.
He had been away almost every week.
Scarlett had managed the household.
And Evelyn had apparently been hiding her unhappiness to keep her son from worrying.
"Mr. Russo, your mother needs you now."
He lowered his hand.
"You're right."
Just then, my phone vibrated.
A message from my mother's evening caregiver appeared on the screen.
Diane had eaten dinner and was resting comfortably.
I exhaled.
Matteo noticed.
"Is everything all right?"
"My mother."
"How is she?"
"Better than she was six months ago."
He nodded.
"Mom told me about her stroke."
I looked down.
"She's getting stronger."
"That's good."
Then he added quietly, "And Anna, you're not fired."
I met his eyes.
"Scarlett said—"
"Scarlett doesn't have authority to dismiss you."
He paused.
"Your wages and benefits are secure while we sort this out."
I appreciated the reassurance.
But something still troubled me.
"Mr. Russo, I found something in your mother's bedroom."
His expression sharpened.
"What?"
"A bus ticket."
"Where to?"
"Milwaukee."
He stared at me.
"Milwaukee?"
"It's one-way."
Matteo walked toward the window.
"Why would they send her there?"
"I don't know."
Then I remembered something.
"The ticket was inside your father's Bible."
He turned around.
"His Bible?"
I nodded.
"Your mother keeps it on her nightstand."
Matteo was silent for a long moment.
Finally, he said, "Bring it here, please."
I returned upstairs.
Evelyn had fallen asleep in her armchair.
The brown coat still covered her shoulders.
I carefully lifted the old Bible from her nightstand and carried it downstairs.
Matteo opened the worn leather cover.
His father's name was written inside in blue ink.
Beneath it were three smaller names.
Luca.
Matteo.
Gabriel.
The names of his sons.
He ran his thumb over the writing.
Then something slipped from between the pages.
It was a yellowed envelope.
Across the front, in shaky handwriting, were five words.
FOR MY SONS, WHEN NECESSARY.
Matteo stared at it.
"That's Dad's handwriting."
He opened the envelope carefully.
Inside was a letter dated four months before his father's death.
Matteo began reading silently.
His expression changed halfway down the page.
Then he sat heavily in his father's leather chair.
"What does it say?" I asked.
He handed me the letter.
I read the words slowly.
His father had established a family trust to protect the mansion.
He had specifically guaranteed Evelyn's right to live there for the remainder of her life.
No sale, transfer, or arrangement affecting that right was to proceed without her informed agreement and independent legal advice.
And the letter contained a warning.
If anyone ever tells your mother that she has become a burden, remember that she carried this family when none of us had anything.
I looked up.
Matteo was crying silently.
He wiped his face before speaking.
"She used to work nights at a hospital cafeteria."
I didn't move.
"After Dad lost his first business, she paid the mortgage for almost two years."
He looked toward the ceiling.
"And now my brother has helped somebody try to take everything away from her."
Then his phone rang.
The caller was Mara Chen, an attorney his father had trusted for years.
Matteo put the call on speaker.
"Mara, did Dad ever change the trust?"
"No, Matteo."
"Then how could a sale agreement have been signed?"
There was a pause.
"Someone sent me copies this afternoon."
Matteo gripped the phone.
"And?"
"Your mother's signature is on a release document."
"I know."
"But the supporting paperwork is worse."
"What do you mean?"
Mara's voice became grave.
"Someone filed an emergency petition this afternoon asking the court to declare your mother incapable of managing her own affairs."
I stared at the phone.
Evelyn had been right about remembering things.
Someone had been trying to convince the world she couldn't.
May you like
And if Scarlett succeeded, Evelyn might lose more than her home.
She might lose the right to decide where she lived.
