Chapter 7 - THE ROOM WITH THE BIG WINDOW|
The next morning, I arrived at the Moretti mansion before sunrise.
I hadn't slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Benjamin holding that little wooden telescope.
I heard his trembling voice asking whether he would still be his father's son after the wedding.
And I remembered the four words Daniel had spoken before leaving.
The movers have a key.
Luca had ordered Frank to cancel the removal immediately.
He had also changed the access codes, collected Vanessa's keys, and stationed additional security at the estate.
But I was still afraid.
Not because I believed someone would break into the mansion.
Because I'd seen how easily a child's entire sense of safety could be shaken without anyone ever raising a hand.
When I entered the kitchen, Mrs. Carter was already making coffee.
She looked exhausted.
"Good morning, Rachel."
"Morning."
She studied my face.
"You didn't sleep."
I shook my head.
"Neither did you."
She gave a tired smile.
"After seventeen years in this house, you'd think nothing could surprise me."
I placed my bag on the counter.
"How's Benjamin?"
"Still asleep."
"Did he have nightmares?"
Mrs. Carter hesitated.
"He woke up twice."
My heart sank.
"What happened?"
"He asked whether his father was still home."
I looked down.
"And?"
"Mr. Moretti sat beside his bed until he fell asleep again."
Something tightened in my chest.
For months, I'd watched Benjamin wait for his father to come home.
Now, for the first time, Luca was beginning to understand what that waiting had meant.
Mrs. Carter poured me coffee.
"There's something else."
I looked up.
"His father wants all the staff to meet in the library at nine."
"Why?"
"He didn't say."
My stomach tightened.
I thought about the letter.
The phone call to Caroline.
The accusations Vanessa had made.
Perhaps Luca had defended me in front of the guests but decided afterward that keeping me employed would complicate things.
I couldn't blame him.
I was a housemaid.
He was a wealthy businessman whose family was suddenly involved in a scandal.
And somewhere between those two facts stood his frightened little boy.
At eight-thirty, I carried fresh linens upstairs.
Benjamin's bedroom was at the end of the east hallway.
It was my favorite room in the mansion.
Not because it was the largest.
Not because of the expensive furniture.
But because everything inside it looked as though a child actually lived there.
There were model planets hanging from the ceiling.
A half-finished puzzle covered the little table near the fireplace.
Drawings of rockets were taped above his desk.
And beside the enormous window stood the wooden chair where he watched the stars.
I gently opened the door.
Benjamin was awake.
He sat on the floor in his pajamas, carefully placing books inside his blue suitcase.
My heart dropped.
"Sweetheart?"
He looked up.
"Good morning, Miss Rachel."
I set down the linens.
"What are you doing?"
"Organizing."
I crouched beside him.
"For what?"
He shrugged.
"Just in case."
Two words.
That was all.
But they told me everything.
I sat on the rug.
"Your father said you're not leaving."
"I know."
"Then why pack?"
Benjamin stared at his little dinosaur.
"Because grown-ups change their minds."
I couldn't speak.
He continued arranging his belongings.
"Vanessa said Daddy would agree eventually."
I gently touched the suitcase.
"Your father made you a promise."
Benjamin nodded.
"Sometimes promises change, too."
There was no anger in his voice.
No dramatic tears.
Just the tired certainty of a little boy who'd learned that adults could make decisions about his life while he wasn't listening.
I took a slow breath.
"Would you like me to help you unpack?"
He hesitated.
"Can we leave it open?"
I nodded.
"Of course."
We unpacked the books.
Then the flashlight.
Then the photograph of his parents.
He put the dinosaur back on his pillow.
But he asked me to leave the suitcase beneath his bed.
I agreed.
At nine, the household staff gathered in the library.
Luca stood near the fireplace wearing a dark sweater instead of his usual suit.
He looked as though he hadn't slept either.
Mrs. Carter stood beside me.
Frank waited near the door.
There were twelve of us altogether.
Cooks.
Housekeepers.
Gardeners.
Drivers.
People who usually remained invisible while the mansion's wealthy visitors came and went.
Luca looked around the room.
"Thank you for coming."
Nobody spoke.
He took a breath.
"Last night, I learned that decisions were being made in my home without my knowledge."
His gaze moved across the staff.
"Some of you were pressured to follow instructions you disagreed with."
Mrs. Carter lowered her eyes.
"Some were threatened with losing their jobs."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"And some of you tried to tell me something was wrong."
He paused.
"I didn't listen soon enough."
The room was completely silent.
Luca looked directly at me.
"That's my responsibility."
I swallowed.
He continued.
"No employee will be punished for raising a genuine concern about Benjamin's well-being."
Mrs. Carter's eyes filled.
"And no one outside his parents will make major decisions about his schooling, home, or family relationships."
Several people nodded.
Then Luca held up a printed document.
"These are revised household procedures."
He placed copies on the table.
"Every employee will have a direct way to contact me or the household manager about urgent concerns."
I stared at him.
He wasn't simply apologizing.
He was changing the way his home operated.
Luca looked toward Mrs. Carter.
"Margaret, I'd like you to supervise the household during this transition."
Her expression softened.
"Of course, sir."
"And Rachel?"
My heart began pounding.
"Yes, Mr. Moretti?"
"I owe you an apology."
I blinked.
"Sir, you already—"
"No."
He shook his head.
"You tried to tell me my son was frightened."
I stared at the floor.
"And you were put in a position where telling the truth could cost you your job."
He paused.
"That should never have happened."
My throat tightened.
"Thank you, sir."
"Your position is secure."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Then he added, "And you'll receive compensation for the distress caused by the invasion of your privacy."
I shook my head.
"That isn't necessary."
"It is."
I looked down quickly.
Because I didn't want twelve people watching me cry.
After the meeting, I returned upstairs.
Benjamin was standing by his window.
His little telescope rested on the sill.
"Miss Rachel?"
"Yes?"
"Can you help me find something?"
"Of course."
He pointed toward the garden.
"Mommy's car."
I looked outside.
A silver sedan was coming slowly up the driveway.
My heart leaped.
Caroline.
Benjamin pressed his hands against the glass.
"Is that her?"
I smiled.
"Yes, sweetheart."
He turned.
"Can I go downstairs?"
"Of course."
He ran toward the door.
Then suddenly stopped.
He looked back at his bedroom.
At the drawings.
The books.
The blue balloon tied to his bedpost.
"Miss Rachel?"
"Yes?"
"Will everything still be here when I come back?"
I walked over and crouched beside him.
"Yes."
He studied my face.
"You promise?"
I wanted to promise him that nothing in his life would ever change again.
But I knew that wasn't something any adult could guarantee.
So I told him something I believed.
"The people who love you will talk to you before making big changes."
He thought about that.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
We hurried downstairs.
Caroline was standing in the entrance hall when Benjamin reached her.
"Mommy!"
She dropped her handbag.
Then fell to her knees and caught him in her arms.
"My baby."
He hugged her so tightly I could see her hands trembling.
"You remembered."
Caroline began crying.
"Of course I remembered."
"I thought you forgot."
"Never."
He buried his face against her shoulder.
"I missed you."
She closed her eyes.
"I missed you, too."
Luca stood several feet away.
For a long moment, he simply watched them.
Then Caroline looked up at him.
There was relief in her eyes.
And anger.
And a sadness that seemed much older than last night's events.
"Luca," she whispered.
He nodded.
"Caroline."
She stood, still holding Benjamin's hand.
"We need to talk."
Luca stepped aside.
"Yes."
Benjamin looked between them.
"Am I in trouble?"
Both parents answered at once.
"No."
For the first time that morning, he smiled.
Then Caroline looked at Luca.
"I brought the documents from Westbridge."
His expression became serious.
"Thank you."
She reached inside her handbag.
"But there's something else."
She held out a photograph.
I couldn't see it from where I stood.
Luca took it.
Then frowned.
"Where did you get this?"
Caroline's face tightened.
"Someone left it on my windshield yesterday."
Luca studied the photograph.
And I watched his expression change.
Because it wasn't a picture of Benjamin.
It was a photograph of me leaving the Moretti estate.
May you like
Beneath it were six handwritten words.
SHE KNOWS MORE THAN SHE ADMITS.
