Chapter 5 - The Chair Nobody Was Allowed to Move|
By noon, the Moretti mansion had become a place of whispered conversations and unanswered questions.
Abigail Grant arrived carrying a leather briefcase and a stack of legal documents.
She was a sharp-eyed woman in her sixties who had worked with Frank Moretti for more than twenty years.
After reviewing the nursing home paperwork, she looked directly at Luca.
"Your mother's signature has also been forged."
Rosa stared at her.
"My signature?"
Abigail nodded gently.
"On a document granting Julian Cross authority to make certain decisions concerning your care."
Rosa began trembling.
"But I never signed anything."
"I believe you."
Abigail placed the papers on the table.
"Your legal capacity hasn't been taken away, Rosa."
She paused.
"And nobody can simply decide that you no longer have the right to speak for yourself."
Olivia squeezed her mother's shoulder.
"Thank God."
Luca looked at Abigail.
"What do we do?"
"We challenge the documents, notify the relevant agencies, and preserve the evidence."
She closed the folder.
"And I strongly recommend that you stop allowing Vanessa's attorney access to your family records."
Luca nodded.
"Consider it done."
But the day's surprises weren't finished.
Shortly after lunch, another vehicle arrived.
A tall man in a gray overcoat stepped into the foyer.
He looked enough like Luca to be his brother.
Because he was.
Matteo Moretti.
The youngest of Rosa's three children.
He managed several family-owned restaurants in New York and had barely spoken to Luca since their father's funeral.
I watched him enter the room.
His eyes immediately found Rosa.
"Mama."
Rosa rose from her chair.
"Matteo?"
He crossed the room and embraced her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Rosa began crying again.
"My boy."
Matteo kissed her silver hair.
"I'm sorry I haven't been here."
Luca stood near the fireplace.
"You came."
Matteo looked at him.
"Olivia called."
There was a long silence.
The brothers had once been inseparable.
But Frank's death had driven them apart.
Matteo blamed Luca for becoming too consumed by the family's dangerous business to notice his father's declining health.
Luca believed Matteo had abandoned the family when they needed him most.
Now they stood only a few feet apart, looking like strangers.
"How bad is it?" Matteo asked.
Luca handed him the forged authorization.
Matteo read it.
His face darkened.
"She tried to send Mama away?"
Luca nodded.
"And she was involved with Papa's foundation before he died."
Matteo looked up sharply.
"What?"
Rosa lowered her eyes.
"I should have told you children sooner."
Matteo knelt beside her.
"No, Mama."
He held her hands.
"You shouldn't have had to carry this alone."
For the first time that morning, I saw a faint smile appear on Rosa's face.
All three of her children were finally in the same room.
But the peace lasted less than ten minutes.
Vanessa entered wearing an expensive white dress.
She stopped when she saw Matteo.
"Well."
Her smile was brittle.
"Now the entire family is here."
Matteo stood.
"Apparently we needed an emergency to bring everyone together."
Vanessa folded her arms.
"You're welcome to stay, but I would appreciate it if everyone stopped treating me like a criminal."
Abigail spoke calmly.
"That will depend on the facts."
Vanessa turned toward her.
"And you are?"
"Rosa's attorney."
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Vanessa's face.
"Rosa doesn't have an attorney."
Abigail smiled without warmth.
"She's had me for twenty-two years."
Luca looked at Vanessa.
"You're not to contact my mother's doctors, financial representatives, or care providers again."
Vanessa's face reddened.
"You have no right to control me!"
"I'm not controlling you."
He stepped forward.
"I'm protecting my mother from decisions you're not authorized to make."
Vanessa pointed at me.
"And that girl needs to be fired."
The room fell silent.
My stomach tightened.
"Excuse me?" Luca asked.
"Claire has been poisoning your mother against me."
Vanessa's voice rose.
"She's an employee, Luca."
"An employee who brought my mother dinner when nobody else would."
"She's manipulating you!"
I looked down.
I had worked in the mansion for nearly three years.
I needed my salary.
But more than anything, I didn't want Rosa to believe I was abandoning her.
"Mr. Moretti," I said quietly, "if my presence is causing problems, I can leave."
"No."
Rosa's voice rang out.
Everyone turned.
She rose slowly from her chair.
Her hands trembled, but her eyes were steady.
"Claire stays."
Vanessa laughed.
"Rosa, this isn't your decision."
Rosa looked directly at her.
"Actually, dear, it is."
She took a breath.
"Frank and I built this home together."
Her voice grew firmer.
"I raised my children here."
She pointed toward the dining room.
"And I will not allow the only person who brought me food when I was hungry to be thrown out because she told the truth."
Nobody spoke.
Then Matteo smiled faintly.
"That's my mother."
Olivia wiped a tear from her cheek.
Luca turned toward me.
"Claire, if you're willing, I'd like you to remain as my mother's personal companion while we sort this out."
I looked at Rosa.
She held out her hand.
I took it.
"I'd be honored."
Vanessa stormed from the room.
A moment later, we heard a door slam upstairs.
But Rosa seemed almost peaceful.
"Now," she said softly, "I'd like to eat lunch with my children."
We moved into the dining room.
The long mahogany table had twenty chairs.
Rosa stopped beside the one at the head.
It had belonged to Frank.
For eighteen months, nobody had sat there.
His favorite silver napkin ring still rested inside the sideboard.
Rosa gently touched the chair.
"Your father always sat here."
Luca moved toward it.
"Then you should sit beside him, Mama."
He pulled out the chair immediately to Frank's right.
Rosa smiled through her tears.
"He kept that chair for me even when we were angry with each other."
Matteo laughed softly.
"I remember."
Olivia nodded.
"Papa would tell anyone sitting there to move."
Rosa ran her fingers along the polished wooden armrest.
Then she paused.
"That's strange."
I leaned closer.
"What is it?"
She pointed beneath the edge of the seat.
A tiny piece of blue velvet thread protruded from the carved wood.
"I remember sewing that."
Luca frowned.
"Why?"
Rosa looked puzzled.
"Frank asked me to repair a tear in this chair shortly before he died."
She touched the thread again.
"But I remember thinking it was odd."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because there wasn't any tear."
Matteo crouched and examined the underside.
A narrow wooden panel had been fitted beneath the chair.
It was almost invisible.
He slid his fingers along the edge.
Then he looked up.
"Luca."
His voice changed.
"Papa had this chair modified."
Luca crouched beside him.
Matteo carefully pressed the panel.
It shifted.
Inside was a shallow compartment.
And resting within it was a folded piece of paper bearing Frank Moretti's unmistakable handwriting.
Luca removed it with trembling fingers.
He unfolded the note.
May you like
Then he read aloud.
"If they take Rosa's place at my table, find the blue box before they take everything else."
