Chapter 7 - The Letter Isabella Left Behind|
Luca reached the conservatory door before I did.
He grabbed the handle and pulled.
It didn't move.
"Sophia!"
His voice echoed down the empty corridor.
"Daddy?"
The answer came from the other side.
Luca pressed his palm against the wood.
"Princess, I'm here."
"Please open the door."
"I will, sweetheart."
He tried the handle again.
Nothing.
Daniel arrived behind us carrying a ring of keys.
"Sir, this wing was secured after Mrs. Moretti passed away."
"Then open it."
Daniel inserted the first key.
It didn't fit.
He tried another.
Then a third.
Finally, the lock clicked.
Luca pushed the door open.
The conservatory smelled of old wood, dust, and the faint perfume of dried flowers.
Sunlight filtered through enormous glass windows.
At the far end stood Isabella's white grand piano.
Sophia was crouched beside it.
She immediately ran toward her father.
"Daddy!"
Luca dropped to his knees and caught her.
I had never seen him hold anyone so desperately.
"Are you hurt?"
Sophia shook her head.
"Did somebody bring you here?"
"No."
She began crying again.
"I came because of the note."
Luca looked toward me.
I closed the door behind us.
"Who gave you that note, sweetheart?" I asked.
Sophia hesitated.
"It was on my pillow."
"Did you see who left it?"
She shook her head.
"I thought Mommy really left something for me."
Luca stroked her hair.
"I know, princess."
"But when I got here, the door closed."
I looked toward the heavy brass lock.
Someone had shut her inside.
Whether the intention was to frighten Sophia or to make her disappear long enough to create another crisis, I couldn't yet know.
But I knew one thing.
A child had been deliberately lured into an isolated part of the house.
And someone had arranged for the cameras nearby to stop recording.
Luca looked at Daniel.
"Nobody enters or leaves the property without the investigators knowing."
Daniel nodded.
"Understood."
Sophia pulled away slightly.
"Daddy, I didn't mean to make trouble."
Luca held her face gently.
"Listen to me."
She looked up.
"You are not in trouble."
"But Vanessa said—"
"I don't care what Vanessa said."
His voice softened.
"You're my daughter, and I love you."
Sophia's chin trembled.
"Even when I do something wrong?"
"Especially then."
She hugged him again.
I turned toward the piano, trying to collect myself.
The room was exactly as Isabella had left it.
A small ceramic vase sat on the windowsill.
A framed photograph of Sophia as a toddler rested beside the music stand.
And beneath the bench lay an old wooden music box.
I recognized it.
Isabella used to play it for Sophia when thunderstorms frightened her.
I picked it up.
The little girl immediately looked toward me.
"Claire?"
"Yes?"
"Can I see that?"
I brought it to her.
She opened the lid.
A delicate melody filled the room.
Sophia smiled through her tears.
"Mommy played that song when I couldn't sleep."
Luca watched her.
"I remember."
Sophia ran her fingers over the small wooden box.
Then she looked toward the piano bench.
"Mommy said there was something else."
Luca frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Sophia pointed.
"Before she got really sick, she told me she was putting letters somewhere safe."
My heart tightened.
"Letters?"
Sophia nodded.
"She said I could read them whenever I missed her."
Luca slowly approached the piano.
He lifted the padded seat of the bench.
Inside were several old music books.
A photograph album.
And a collection of envelopes tied together with a pale-blue ribbon.
I covered my mouth.
Every envelope had a handwritten label.
For Sophia's Tenth Birthday.
For Her First Broken Heart.
For the Day She Needs Courage.
And one that simply read:
For When Sophia Feels She Doesn't Belong.
Luca stared at the letters.
His eyes filled with tears.
"Isabella."
He whispered her name as though she were standing beside him.
Sophia reached for the final envelope.
"Can I open it?"
Luca nodded.
"Of course, princess."
Her hands shook as she unfolded the letter.
She began reading silently.
Then she looked at me.
"Claire, will you help?"
I sat beside her on the piano bench.
Together, we read Isabella's words.
My beautiful Sophia,
One day, you may feel as though the world is changing faster than your heart can understand.
People may leave.
New people may arrive.
Some rooms will look different, and some traditions will change.
But never confuse change with losing your place.
You were loved before you knew what love meant.
You were wanted before you took your first breath.
And nothing anyone says can undo the fact that you belong.
I stopped reading.
Tears blurred the page.
Sophia squeezed my hand.
"Keep going."
I swallowed.
Your daddy may make mistakes.
He may be busy, stubborn, or frightened of things he doesn't know how to fix.
But I have seen the way he looks at you when you sleep.
You are the gentlest part of his heart.
And if anyone ever makes you feel that love is a room with only one chair, remember this.
Real love always makes room.
Forever yours, Mommy.
I could barely breathe.
Luca sat beside his daughter.
He took the letter and read it again.
Then he pressed it against his chest.
For several minutes, none of us spoke.
Finally, Sophia looked at him.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Do you think Mommy would be mad at you?"
Luca stared at her.
"For what?"
"For forgetting to put me in your wedding."
His face crumpled.
He gathered her into his arms.
"Your mommy would be furious with me for not noticing how unhappy you were."
Sophia touched his cheek.
"But she wouldn't stop loving you."
Luca closed his eyes.
"No, princess."
"Then I won't either."
A tear slid down his face.
He kissed her forehead.
"I don't deserve how kind you're being to me."
Sophia leaned against his chest.
"You're still my daddy."
I quietly stepped away to give them a moment.
But just as I reached the door, Sophia called me back.
"Claire?"
I turned.
"Yes?"
She reached into the pocket of her pink cardigan.
"I have something else."
She pulled out a small pink voice recorder.
I recognized it immediately.
Isabella had given it to Sophia so she could record bedtime stories.
Sophia held it toward her father.
"Vanessa told me not to show anybody."
Luca frowned.
"Why?"
Sophia looked down.
"Because I recorded something I wasn't supposed to hear."
She pressed a button.
A man's voice filled the conservatory.
"Once the girl is out of the house, the financing becomes much easier."
Then came Vanessa's unmistakable reply.
"She'll be gone Monday morning."
Luca stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
May you like
And the next sentence changed everything.
"By the time Luca realizes what happened, the money will already be ours."
