Chapter 2 - The Six Boxes That Were Never Supposed to Leave|
Vanessa Bellini released Luca's arm as though his skin had suddenly burned her.
“Nothing scared me,” she said. “I was trying to make room for our future.”
Luca didn't blink.
“Then why didn't you tell me you were throwing away my daughter's memories?”
“Because I knew you would overreact.”
Lily's fingers tightened around her father's hand.
I watched Luca look down at his daughter, then back at the woman he was supposed to marry in six weeks.
“Marco,” he said quietly.
A tall man in a charcoal suit appeared near the dining room entrance.
“Boss?”
“Stop the donation truck. Bring every box into the house. Nobody opens anything until I get there.”
Marco nodded and disappeared.
Vanessa let out a nervous laugh.
“Luca, this is ridiculous. You're turning a simple household decision into a criminal investigation.”
“No,” Luca replied. “I'm finding out why you made that decision without asking me.”
Thirty wealthy guests sat beneath the chandeliers, suddenly fascinated by their untouched desserts.
I wished I could disappear into the kitchen.
Instead, I stood beside Lily, who was staring at the broken recipe card in her father's hand.
“Daddy?” she whispered.
Luca knelt.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Is Mom's box going in the trash?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
He kissed her forehead.
“I promise.”
Something in his voice made my throat tighten.
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Wonderful. Now that we've humiliated me in front of everyone, can we please finish dinner?”
Luca slowly stood.
“Dinner is over.”
Her expression changed.
“You cannot be serious.”
He addressed the guests.
“Thank you for coming. My family needs privacy tonight.”
No one argued.
Within minutes, chairs scraped against marble, coats were collected, and the engagement dinner dissolved into an uncomfortable procession toward the front doors.
Vanessa's father, Richard Bellini, approached Luca near the staircase.
Richard was a broad-shouldered man with silver hair and a smile that never reached his eyes.
“Son, don't let a child's misunderstanding ruin an important evening.”
Luca looked at him.
“My daughter understood perfectly.”
Richard's smile disappeared.
“Be careful. Families like ours can't afford public embarrassment.”
“Then perhaps your daughter should have considered that before humiliating mine.”
Richard studied him for a long moment.
Then left.
I had seen powerful men challenge Luca before.
None had looked quite so angry while walking away.
Twenty minutes later, six cardboard boxes were carried into the library.
Lily rushed toward them.
“My bunny!”
She pulled a worn stuffed rabbit from the first box.
One ear had been repaired with pink thread.
“Mom fixed him when I was little,” she whispered.
Luca stood motionless.
The second box contained Sarah's gardening gloves, two framed photographs, and a blue cardigan.
The third held children's drawings.
The fourth contained letters.
The fifth held a stack of recipe books.
And the sixth—
The sixth contained the wooden recipe box.
Lily reached for it.
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Wait.”
Everyone stopped.
Luca turned.
“What?”
Vanessa's eyes were fixed on the wooden box.
“It's very old. The hinges are loose. Someone should check it before Lily touches it.”
I frowned.
That afternoon, when Lily had opened the box, its hinges had worked perfectly.
Luca noticed my expression.
“Claire?”
I hesitated.
“The box wasn't broken earlier, sir.”
Vanessa snapped, “Do you ever stop talking?”
Luca's face hardened.
“She's answering my question.”
He picked up the box.
It was small, made of dark cherrywood, with a carved lemon branch on the lid.
Lily moved closer.
“Daddy, Mom used to keep her special recipes in there.”
“I remember.”
He opened it.
Inside were dozens of handwritten recipe cards arranged with faded paper dividers.
Luca touched the first card.
“Chocolate chip cookies,” he whispered.
A faint smile appeared.
“She burned the first batch she ever made for me.”
Lily giggled.
“Mom burned cookies?”
“Completely black.”
For one beautiful second, father and daughter laughed together.
Then Luca reached the bottom of the box.
His smile vanished.
He removed a small envelope.
On the front, in Sarah's handwriting, were four words.
FOR LUCA. NOT YET.
Vanessa took a step backward.
Luca stared at the envelope.
“Why would Sarah leave something like this?”
Lily touched his sleeve.
“Daddy?”
He looked down.
“Did Mom write you a letter?”
“I think so, baby.”
“Can you read it?”
Luca swallowed.
Then he looked toward me.
“Claire, would you take Lily upstairs for a little while?”
Lily immediately protested.
“But it's Mom's box!”
He knelt.
“I know. And you'll get every single thing back. I promise.”
She studied him.
Then nodded.
I took her hand.
As we reached the doorway, Vanessa suddenly said, “You shouldn't open that.”
Luca looked up.
“Why?”
“Because Sarah was going through a difficult time before she died. You know that.”
His expression changed.
“What exactly are you trying to tell me?”
Vanessa stared at the envelope.
“Some things are better left in the past.”
Luca looked at the handwriting.
Then carefully opened the letter.
I was almost out of the room when he spoke.
“Claire. Stay.”
I stopped.
He pulled out a single sheet of paper.
His eyes moved across the first sentence.
Then his entire body went still.
“What is it?” Vanessa whispered.
Luca looked directly at her.
“Sarah wrote this three weeks before she died.”
Vanessa didn't answer.
He continued reading.
His face drained of color.
Then he spoke words that made everyone in the library freeze.
“My wife wrote that someone had been coming into our house while I was away.”
A terrible silence followed.
Luca raised his eyes.
“And she wrote down the woman's name.”
Vanessa whispered, “Luca, please.”
May you like
He looked at her.
“Vanessa Bellini.”
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