Chapter 7 - The Daughter Who Was Made to Look Like a Traitor|
Sofia stayed at the mansion.
Not in the guest wing.
Not in a hotel.
In her old bedroom.
The room Teresa had insisted be kept exactly as her daughter left it.
When I opened the door that morning, Sofia stood in the middle of the room staring at the photographs on the dresser.
She looked younger than thirty-one.
Not because of her face.
Because of the way she held herself.
Like someone who had spent months trying to be strong and had finally found somewhere safe enough to cry.
“Miss Moretti?”
She turned.
I smiled.
“Would you like breakfast?”
Her eyes filled.
“Please call me Sofia.”
I nodded.
“Of course.”
She looked around the room.
“Mom kept everything.”
I smiled.
“She comes in here every Thursday.”
Sofia's expression changed.
“Thursday?”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“That's the day she expected you to visit.”
Tears slipped down Sofia's cheeks.
“I used to visit every Thursday before Vanessa started interfering.”
I nodded.
“She told me.”
Sofia sat on the edge of the bed.
For a moment, she stared at her hands.
Then whispered, “I thought Luca hated me.”
My chest tightened.
“Why?”
She gave a bitter laugh.
“Because Vanessa made sure every attempt I made to reach him ended in another argument.”
I sat beside the window.
Sofia continued.
“After Catherine died, I found the foundation records.”
Her voice trembled.
“I knew something was wrong.”
She looked toward me.
“I went to Luca.”
“What happened?”
“He was grieving. Barely sleeping. Trying to take care of his daughter while running the family businesses.”
I nodded.
“He must have been overwhelmed.”
“He was.”
Sofia swallowed.
“Vanessa had already begun presenting herself as a helpful friend of the family.”
My expression changed.
“Even before they were dating?”
“Yes.”
“She told Luca I was stealing foundation money.”
I stared.
Sofia nodded miserably.
“She produced documents with my name on them.”
“Were they real?”
“The documents were real. The signatures weren't.”
My stomach tightened.
She continued.
“When I tried to explain, Vanessa said I was blaming everyone else because I couldn't face what I'd done.”
I shook my head.
Sofia's eyes filled.
“Luca believed her.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, “That hurt more than anything.”
I understood.
Because Luca hadn't been a stranger.
He was her brother.
The person she'd probably expected to believe her even when the rest of the world didn't.
“What happened after that?” I asked.
Sofia looked toward the window.
“I moved out.”
Her voice broke.
“I thought distance would make everything easier.”
“But it didn't.”
She shook her head.
“Mom kept calling.”
I frowned.
“She said you stopped answering.”
Sofia looked up sharply.
“I never stopped answering Mom.”
My blood turned cold.
“What?”
“I called every Thursday.”
Sofia began crying.
“At first, someone answered and said she was resting. Then Vanessa started telling me Mom didn't want to speak.”
I covered my mouth.
Teresa had spent four Thursdays waiting by the window.
And Sofia had spent those same Thursdays calling.
Both convinced the other had abandoned her.
Someone had been standing between them.
Every single time.
Sofia looked at me.
“Hannah, did Mom ever tell you she didn't want to see me?”
I shook my head.
“Never.”
She began sobbing.
I moved beside her.
She held my hand.
“I kept thinking I must have done something unforgivable.”
My eyes filled.
“You didn't.”
She shook her head.
“Then why did Luca believe Vanessa?”
I swallowed.
Because there wasn't an easy answer.
He had trusted the wrong person.
Because grief had made him vulnerable.
Because Vanessa had understood exactly how to use that grief.
But none of those things erased the pain Sofia had experienced.
So I answered honestly.
“I think your brother is beginning to understand what happened.”
Sofia looked down.
“I want to forgive him.”
I nodded.
“But I'm angry.”
“You're allowed to be.”
She looked up.
Surprised.
I continued.
“You can love your brother and still be hurt by what he did.”
Tears filled her eyes.
Then she smiled sadly.
“Catherine used to say that.”
My throat tightened.
“She sounds wonderful.”
Sofia nodded.
“She was.”
For a moment, we sat quietly.
Then Sofia reached into her handbag.
She removed a small photograph.
Catherine stood beside a little girl in a yellow dress.
The girl had dark curls and a wide smile.
“That's Luca's daughter,” Sofia said.
I nodded.
“Lily.”
She smiled.
“She looks more like Catherine every year.”
I had seen Lily only a handful of times.
After Catherine died, Luca had arranged for her to live mostly with her maternal grandparents while he dealt with business matters and his own grief.
She visited the mansion during school holidays.
Vanessa claimed the arrangement was best for everyone.
Now Sofia looked toward the photograph.
“Catherine made me promise something.”
I leaned closer.
“What?”
Sofia's eyes filled.
“That Lily would never grow up believing her mother had abandoned her.”
My chest tightened.
Then she added something that made me stop breathing.
“Vanessa has been trying to convince Luca that Catherine wanted to leave him before she died.”
I stared.
Sofia nodded.
“She even produced a letter.”
“What letter?”
“A supposed goodbye letter.”
My stomach tightened.
Sofia looked directly at me.
“Hannah, Catherine never wrote it.”
May you like
And when I asked how she knew, Sofia answered with four words.
“Because I wrote the original.”
Related Stories
