Chapter 9 - The Room Behind the Golden Stars|
Vincent Moretti tried to take Leo on Friday morning.
Not physically.
That would have been too obvious.
Instead, he sent a woman carrying a leather briefcase and a folder of official-looking documents.
Her name was Caroline Price.
She introduced herself as a representative of a private family welfare agency.
I found her sitting in the Moretti drawing room while Gianna stood beside the fireplace looking furious.
Luca was holding Leo.
The baby's little fingers were tangled in his father's collar.
"Mr. Moretti," Caroline said smoothly, "we're simply concerned about the child's environment."
Luca's voice was cold.
"Who hired you?"
"Our office received an anonymous report."
"From whom?"
"I'm afraid that's confidential."
I stood near the doorway.
"What kind of report?"
Caroline turned toward me.
Her eyes narrowed.
"And you are?"
"Avery Bennett."
Recognition flickered across her face.
"Oh."
I folded my arms.
"That's an interesting reaction."
She looked back at Luca.
"We've received allegations that your son is being cared for by an unqualified woman with a questionable background."
For one second, I couldn't speak.
Then I laughed.
"Questionable?"
Caroline opened her folder.
"Miss Bennett, according to our information, you have no formal childcare credentials."
"Correct."
"And you're currently residing in Mr. Moretti's home."
"Temporarily."
"While maintaining a close relationship with the child."
I looked at Leo.
He was trying to eat Luca's shirt collar.
"That's usually how friendships with babies work."
Gianna made a strangled noise.
Caroline didn't smile.
"This isn't amusing."
"Neither is making accusations about people you haven't met."
Luca stepped forward.
"Miss Price, you have no authority to question my household."
She straightened.
"We may have to recommend further review."
"To which agency?"
She hesitated.
Iris Shaw entered from the hallway.
"That's an excellent question."
Caroline turned.
Iris smiled politely.
"I've checked your credentials."
The woman's expression shifted.
"Have you?"
"Your organization isn't authorized to conduct state child-protection investigations."
Silence.
Iris continued.
"You're a private consultant paid through the Moretti Foundation."
My stomach dropped.
Luca's expression became lethal.
"Get out."
Caroline gathered her papers.
"This family is making a serious mistake."
Iris opened the front door.
"Then your client can explain it to the proper authorities."
After Caroline left, Gianna sank onto the couch.
"Vincent is getting desperate."
Luca kissed Leo's forehead.
"Then we need to end this."
I looked toward Iris.
"Did you find anything about the nursery at North Star?"
She nodded.
"The building's old floor plans show a children's activity room beneath the east stairwell."
My pulse quickened.
"The room where the children learned to follow the stars."
"Possibly."
"Can we get inside?"
"The fire department has released the undamaged rear section."
I stood.
"Then we're going."
Luca glanced at Leo.
Then at Gianna.
"Take him to the apartment in Connecticut."
Gianna nodded.
I looked at him.
"Why Connecticut?"
"It's a property Vincent doesn't control."
He adjusted Leo against his chest.
"Gianna can stay with him while we work."
I watched him hand his son to his sister.
Leo began protesting immediately.
Luca leaned close.
"Hey, little man."
The baby stopped long enough to look at him.
"Daddy's coming back."
For a moment, the words hung between us.
Coming back.
I wondered whether that promise frightened Luca as much as it frightened me.
At the North Star Center, the building still smelled faintly of smoke.
The front rooms were damaged, but the old activity room had escaped the fire.
A faded mural covered the far wall.
Golden stars surrounded a painted moon.
Below them, a line of little footprints led toward a wooden bookshelf.
I touched the wall.
"My mother painted this."
Luca looked at me.
"How do you know?"
I smiled sadly.
"She always drew stars with one point slightly longer than the others."
I remembered her decorating birthday cards.
School projects.
Even the little notes she'd left on the refrigerator.
I stepped closer.
One star near the floor was different.
Its longest point faced downward.
Toward a wooden panel beneath the bookshelf.
I knelt.
The panel shifted when I pressed it.
Behind it was a narrow storage compartment.
Inside sat a dented metal lunchbox.
My heart hammered.
I lifted it out.
It was painted with faded blue clouds.
The kind of lunchbox a child might have carried to elementary school.
Luca crouched beside me.
"Open it."
My hands trembled.
Inside were several sealed envelopes, a small notebook, and a portable storage drive.
I opened the notebook.
Dates.
Amounts.
Account numbers.
Company names.
And signatures.
Dozens of signatures.
Vincent Moretti's name appeared repeatedly beside transfers to shell companies and fabricated medical suppliers.
The original winter ledger.
I looked at Luca.
"We found it."
His expression was grim.
"We found enough to ask a lot of questions."
Iris began photographing every page while documenting where each item had been discovered.
Then I noticed another envelope.
My name was written across the front.
Underneath it were four words.
For when she's ready.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of my mother.
Not from seven years ago.
From much more recently.
She was standing outside a small cottage beside a lake.
On the back was an address.
I stared at it.
"Luca."
He looked up.
"I think I know where she is."
A floorboard creaked behind us.
We turned.
A woman stood in the doorway.
Her gray hair was pulled into a loose knot.
She wore a worn blue cardigan and held both hands against her chest.
Her face was older.
Thinner.
Marked by years I hadn't been allowed to witness.
But I knew her.
Every part of me knew her.
"Avery."
Her voice broke.
I couldn't move.
She took one step forward.
"Oh, my beautiful girl."
The lunchbox slipped from my hands.
May you like
Metal struck the floor.
And for the first time in seven years, I heard my mother say my name.
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