Chapter 3 - The Empty Nursery Behind the Locked Door|
I had worked at the Moretti mansion for eleven months.
During that time, I'd learned which doors were kept locked, which hallways belonged to the family, and which rooms the staff were forbidden to enter.
But there was one room I'd always wondered about.
The small nursery in the east wing.
It had been closed since Vanessa moved into the mansion three months earlier.
She told the staff the room was being renovated.
Yet no painters or contractors had ever arrived.
And twice that week, I'd heard soft music coming from behind its door.
Now, as Marco searched for Michael, I remembered something else.
A delivery had arrived that afternoon.
Baby formula.
Diapers.
A portable crib.
Vanessa had told the driver to take everything directly to the east wing.
At the time, I assumed it was a donation for one of her charity events.
But after Sofia's phone call, the memory felt different.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Luca turned toward me.
“Yes, Hannah?”
“I think there's something you should see.”
Vanessa immediately straightened.
“Hannah, don't.”
The warning in her voice made my heart pound.
Luca noticed.
“What is it?”
I swallowed.
“There have been baby supplies delivered to the east wing.”
His expression changed.
“What baby supplies?”
“Formula. Diapers. A crib.”
Vanessa laughed sharply.
“For the hospital fundraiser.”
I looked at her.
“But the boxes weren't taken to the garage.”
Her eyes narrowed.
I continued.
“They were delivered to the nursery.”
Luca went completely still.
“The nursery is locked.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned toward Marco.
“Get the key.”
Vanessa stood.
“Luca, you're humiliating me.”
He looked at her.
“My sister believes someone took her child.”
“That doesn't give you the right to tear apart my private arrangements.”
Luca's voice became very quiet.
“This is my house.”
Vanessa stared at him.
Then looked toward the doorway.
For one terrible second, I thought she might run.
But two security officers were already standing outside.
Luca helped Teresa into the sitting room with her nurse.
Then he asked me to accompany him upstairs.
I hesitated.
“Sir, perhaps this should be handled by the police.”
He nodded.
“Marco has already contacted them. We'll preserve anything we find.”
We reached the east wing.
The nursery door was painted pale cream.
A small brass keyhole sat beneath the handle.
Marco unlocked it.
Luca pushed open the door.
And stopped.
Inside stood a white wooden crib.
A changing table.
A rocking chair.
A shelf filled with stuffed animals.
And a small pink blanket folded neatly over the crib rail.
The room smelled faintly of baby powder.
My breath caught.
Luca stood motionless.
Then he looked toward Marco.
“Photograph everything. Don't move anything.”
Marco nodded.
I remained near the doorway.
The crib was empty.
So was the rocking chair.
But beside the changing table stood a small bottle warmer.
Its light was still on.
Someone had been using the room very recently.
Luca noticed it too.
His jaw tightened.
Then he saw a photograph on the dresser.
A woman holding a newborn baby.
Her face was partially turned away.
But I recognized her immediately.
Sofia Moretti.
Luca picked up the frame carefully.
His expression changed.
“That's Sofia.”
I nodded.
He looked at the photograph.
Then at the nursery.
“Why would Vanessa have a picture of Sofia with her baby?”
Before I could answer, Marco found a folder inside the dresser.
It contained pediatric appointment cards and receipts for infant supplies.
One name appeared repeatedly.
EMMA REED.
Luca frowned.
“Emma Reed?”
Marco examined the records.
“Could be an alias.”
Luca looked toward the crib.
Then his phone rang.
Sofia.
He answered immediately.
“Sofia?”
Her voice was breathless.
“Luca, did you find her?”
He closed his eyes.
“Not yet.”
“Did Michael leave?”
“Yes.”
Sofia began crying.
“Oh, God.”
“Sofia, listen to me. We found a nursery in the east wing.”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “What?”
“There are baby supplies. And a photograph of you holding a newborn.”
Sofia stopped breathing.
“What photograph?”
Luca described it.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then a broken sob came through the phone.
“That was taken the morning she was born.”
Luca looked at the picture.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Her voice trembled.
“Evelyn took it before they told me something was wrong.”
Luca's face went pale.
Sofia continued.
“I thought they destroyed every photograph.”
Luca stared toward the empty crib.
Then asked quietly, “Sofia, what did you name her?”
A long silence.
Then his sister whispered, “Isabella.”
Luca closed his eyes.
Their mother's name.
Teresa's mother.
A name the Moretti family had carried for generations.
Sofia began crying again.
“I named her Isabella because I thought Mom would love it.”
Luca swallowed.
“She will.”
But before he could say anything else, Marco approached.
“Boss.”
Luca looked up.
“What?”
“We found the nursery's security log.”
His expression hardened.
“And?”
“The room was accessed fifteen minutes before Michael left.”
“By whom?”
Marco looked toward the doorway.
“Vanessa.”
Then he hesitated.
“And there's an outgoing message from the household system.”
Luca stared.
“What message?”
May you like
Marco read it aloud.
“THE BABY HAS TO BE MOVED BEFORE SOFIA GETS HERE.”
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