Chapter 6 - The Appointment Teresa Never Made|
Luca was already moving toward the door when I spoke.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
I could barely hear my own voice over my heartbeat.
“Mrs. Moretti never said she had a doctor's appointment.”
“I know,” Luca replied.
He turned toward Anthony.
“Where is the car?”
Anthony checked his phone.
“Heading north on Lake Shore Drive.”
“Who's driving?”
“Michael. He's been with the family nine years.”
Luca reached for his phone.
“Call him.”
Anthony dialed.
The call connected on the second ring.
“Michael, this is Anthony. Put Mr. Moretti on speaker.”
A frightened voice answered.
“Yes, sir.”
Luca stepped closer.
“Michael, where are you taking my mother?”
“The Lakeside Medical Center, boss.”
“Who gave you that instruction?”
“Mrs. Bellini's assistant sent the appointment details.”
“Did my mother request it?”
A pause.
“I don't know, boss.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Ask her.”
I heard movement.
Then Teresa's voice came through.
“Luca?”
Relief hit me so hard I nearly cried.
“Ma,” he said, “are you okay?”
“Of course. But why are we going to a doctor I don't know?”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Because someone made an appointment without asking you.”
Teresa sighed.
“Oh, for heaven's sake.”
Even terrified, I almost smiled.
Luca continued.
“Ma, do you want to attend this appointment?”
“No.”
“Then Michael is bringing you home.”
“Good. I haven't finished my crossword.”
Luca looked toward Anthony.
“Tell the gate staff to expect them.”
Then he hung up.
I finally exhaled.
But Luca wasn't relieved.
He was furious.
“Someone tried to move my mother out of the house using a false appointment.”
Anthony nodded.
“And the clinic?”
“Find out who made the booking.”
Within an hour, Detective Harris arrived.
He examined the message sent to Michael.
The appointment had been scheduled under Teresa's name at a private medical practice affiliated with a residential care company.
The request listed Isabella Bellini as the emergency contact.
And the purpose of the visit was written in plain language.
Capacity assessment and long-term placement consultation.
My stomach twisted.
“Long-term placement?”
Harris nodded.
“It appears someone was seeking an evaluation that could support moving Mrs. Moretti into residential care.”
Luca slammed his hand against the desk.
“She isn't moving anywhere.”
Harris looked at him.
“That's Teresa's decision, assuming she's legally able to make it. And nothing you've shown me suggests she requested this appointment.”
Luca took a breath.
Then nodded.
“You're right.”
The detective examined the threatening messages on my phone.
He photographed the envelope I'd found on my pillow.
He asked whether I'd touched the photograph.
I admitted I had.
He nodded.
“That's understandable. We'll preserve what remains.”
Then he looked at me.
“Emma, whoever is responsible for these threats has crossed into criminal conduct. We need to investigate that separately from the financial allegations.”
I swallowed.
“Will my family be safe?”
“We're arranging a patrol check and taking steps to identify the person who approached your father.”
I wanted to believe him.
But fear doesn't disappear because someone makes a promise.
At four that afternoon, Teresa returned.
Luca met her at the front entrance.
She looked irritated rather than frightened.
“Honestly, Luca. Do you know how embarrassing it is to arrive halfway to a medical appointment you never made?”
He hugged her.
“I know, Ma.”
She patted his back.
“Don't smother me, sweetheart.”
He laughed weakly.
Then held her at arm's length.
“Are you okay?”
“Perfectly.”
She looked toward me.
“Emma, did Marco make lemon cake?”
I blinked.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Wonderful. Then this day isn't entirely ruined.”
I laughed.
For a few moments, everything seemed almost normal.
Until Teresa asked why Isabella wasn't home.
Luca hesitated.
Then said, “Ma, I think we need to talk.”
He told her about the proposed capacity assessment.
Teresa listened in silence.
Then her face changed.
“She was going to have me declared incapable?”
“We don't know exactly what the doctor would have concluded,” Luca said carefully. “But the appointment was arranged without your permission.”
Teresa looked down.
“I thought she simply didn't like me.”
Her voice cracked.
“I didn't realize she wanted me gone.”
Luca knelt beside her.
“Ma, I'm sorry.”
Teresa touched his cheek.
“Don't apologize for her actions.”
He swallowed.
“Then let me help you stop her.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
That evening, Arthur Whitcomb visited the mansion with an independent elder-law specialist.
They explained the safeguards available to Teresa.
She could document her wishes.
Review the trust records.
Revoke any unauthorized permissions.
And appoint professionals she trusted to examine suspicious transactions.
But Teresa made one thing clear.
“I am not handing over control of my life because someone thinks I'm old.”
The attorney smiled.
“That's entirely your decision, Mrs. Moretti.”
Teresa nodded.
Then looked toward Luca.
“And I want my son to understand that helping me doesn't mean deciding everything for me.”
Luca lowered his head.
“Yes, Ma.”
For the first time, I saw him truly understand.
Protecting someone didn't mean taking away their independence.
It meant making sure nobody else could.
Later that night, while I was preparing Teresa's medication tray, Mrs. Romano entered the pantry.
She looked pale.
“Emma.”
I turned.
“What happened?”
She held out a small pharmacy bag.
“I found this in the trash outside Isabella's room.”
Inside was an empty prescription bottle.
The label had been partly torn away.
But one thing remained visible.
Teresa Moretti's name.
I stared.
“That's strange.”
Mrs. Romano nodded.
“Especially because Mrs. Moretti hasn't been prescribed this medication.”
I looked closer.
The dispensing date was only four days earlier.
The same evening Teresa had slept through dinner and complained of feeling unusually dizzy.
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And suddenly, the missing letters and financial documents weren't the most frightening things in the mansion.
Because someone might have been giving Teresa medicine she didn't need.
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