Chapter 13 - THE SECRET ISABELLA TOOK TO HER GRAVE|
"Isabella."
Anthony DeLuca whispered the name once.
Then again.
His hands began trembling.
Matteo stared at him.
"Mom?"
Anthony looked frightened.
"She told Victor."
Gabriel stepped closer.
"Father, what are you saying?"
Anthony's breathing became shallow.
"The woman."
He gripped my wrist.
"She told him where Thomas was hiding."
I felt the room tilt.
Isabella DeLuca.
The woman who had protected Eleanor's cottage.
The woman who had hidden documents for my mother.
The woman who had raised Gabriel and Matteo.
Had she betrayed my father?
I looked at Matteo.
His face had gone completely white.
"That's impossible."
Anthony shook his head.
"She told him."
Helen moved beside the wheelchair.
"Mr. Vale, let's rest."
But Anthony wouldn't stop.
"She didn't know."
Matteo froze.
"What?"
Anthony's eyes filled.
"She didn't know what Victor would do."
The room became silent.
He looked at me.
"She thought she was saving the children."
I swallowed.
"What children?"
Anthony closed his eyes.
Then he whispered, "All of you."
His breathing grew uneven.
Helen gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"That's enough for now."
Matteo stepped backward.
"Wait."
Helen looked at him.
"He's becoming distressed."
"But he knows something."
"I understand."
She spoke gently.
"However, pushing him could worsen his confusion."
Matteo looked devastated.
I stepped closer.
"Matteo."
He turned toward me.
"We'll find another way."
He stared at his father.
Then nodded.
Anthony looked exhausted.
His eyes drifted toward the window.
He began humming softly.
A familiar melody.
Matteo froze.
His father's morning whistle.
The sound he had missed for thirty years.
He slowly sat beside the wheelchair.
Anthony reached for his hand.
"My little lion."
Matteo began crying again.
I stepped into the hallway.
Gabriel followed.
For several minutes, we stood beside the window.
Then Gabriel spoke.
"Isabella would never deliberately hurt Thomas."
I looked at him.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because she loved Anna."
I swallowed.
"My mother?"
He nodded.
"They were friends."
"How close?"
"Very."
Gabriel looked toward Anthony's room.
"After Thomas died, Isabella visited Anna every month."
I stared.
"I never knew."
"She didn't want Victor to discover the connection."
"Why?"
Gabriel hesitated.
"Because Anna had the documents."
I looked toward the floor.
The music box.
The chest.
The letters.
Everything my mother had protected.
Gabriel continued.
"Isabella believed Victor was watching her."
"Was he?"
"Yes."
I thought about the photograph of my mother and Isabella standing outside St. Agnes.
Two women smiling.
Two women carrying terrible secrets.
Two women who had tried to protect their children from men with money and power.
I looked at Gabriel.
"Maybe Anthony remembers something incorrectly."
He nodded.
"Possibly."
"But what if Isabella really told Victor where Dad was hiding?"
Gabriel's expression darkened.
"Then we need to know why."
Detective Whitmore approached.
She had been speaking with the facility administrator.
"Mr. Mercer."
Gabriel turned.
"Yes?"
"May I speak with you?"
He nodded.
The detective looked at me.
"Miss Bennett, you should hear this too."
We followed her into a small conference room.
On the table lay several old medical records.
Detective Whitmore sat.
"We've reviewed Anthony's admission history."
Gabriel leaned forward.
"And?"
"He was transferred here in 2007."
I frowned.
"Two years after my father died."
"Correct."
"Where was he before that?"
"Several private facilities."
She turned a page.
"Most of the records are incomplete."
Gabriel's expression tightened.
"Who authorized the transfers?"
The detective looked at him.
"Victor Bellini."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
She continued.
"But there's something unusual."
"What?"
"Anthony received regular visitors."
Gabriel leaned forward.
"Who?"
"One was Isabella DeLuca."
Matteo entered the room just as she said it.
He stopped.
"My mother?"
Detective Whitmore nodded.
"She visited several times."
Matteo sat down.
"Did she know he was alive?"
"According to the visitor records, yes."
He stared at the table.
I watched his face crumple.
Another secret.
Another betrayal.
Another piece of his childhood breaking apart.
Then the detective continued.
"She stopped visiting in 2018."
Matteo frowned.
"Why?"
"We don't know."
She turned another page.
"But someone else continued."
"Who?" Gabriel asked.
The detective hesitated.
"Anna Bennett."
My heart stopped.
I stared at her.
"My mother?"
She nodded.
"She visited under the name Anna Brooks."
I covered my mouth.
My mother had traveled to Wisconsin.
She had visited Anthony.
She had known he was alive.
And she had never told us.
I looked at the dates.
The last visit was in February 2020.
Three weeks before my mother's final hospitalization.
Tears filled my eyes.
She had been dying.
She had known it.
And still, she had traveled to see a man connected to my father's death.
Why?
Detective Whitmore slid another paper across the table.
"Your mother left a written statement with the facility."
I stared at it.
"Can I read it?"
The detective nodded.
"It's a copy provided by the administrator."
I took the paper.
My mother's handwriting filled the page.
I read slowly.
"Anthony is not safe while Victor controls his care."
My hands trembled.
"He has tried to tell the truth, but his memory is unreliable because of his injuries."
I swallowed.
"Please preserve his statements and ensure that nobody removes him without independent medical review."
The next paragraph made my chest tighten.
"Isabella made a terrible mistake years ago."
Matteo looked up.
I continued.
"She believed Victor when he promised to protect our children."
My voice broke.
"Instead, he used the information she gave him to find Thomas."
Gabriel lowered his head.
Matteo stared at the wall.
I kept reading.
"Isabella spent the rest of her life trying to repair the damage."
Tears fell onto the paper.
"She protected the Harbor families."
"She secured the cottages."
"She hid the records."
"And she helped me preserve the truth."
I paused.
The final sentence was written in darker ink.
"I forgive Isabella because I know she never intended Thomas to die."
I covered my face.
My mother had forgiven her.
For years, she had carried that knowledge.
She had known Isabella's mistake contributed to my father's death.
And still, she had chosen forgiveness.
Not because the mistake was small.
But because she understood what fear could make people do.
Matteo sat motionless.
Finally, he whispered, "My mother."
Gabriel placed a hand on his shoulder.
Matteo looked at him.
"She spent her whole life trying to fix it."
Gabriel nodded.
"Yes."
I wiped my eyes.
"And my mother helped her."
The room became quiet.
Then Detective Whitmore spoke.
"There's another part of the statement."
I looked up.
She pointed toward the bottom of the page.
My mother had written a name.
Margaret Collins.
Beside it was a sentence.
MARGARET KNOWS WHERE THE FINAL ACCOUNTING RECORDS ARE KEPT.
I stared at the words.
Margaret.
The retired nurse who had arrived at the engagement dinner carrying Isabella's estate documents.
The woman who had waited downstairs while Eleanor stood in the hallway.
The woman who had kept secrets for years.
I looked at Matteo.
"We need to talk to Margaret."
He nodded.
"Immediately."
We returned to Chicago that afternoon.
Anthony remained at Willow Creek under independent medical supervision while investigators reviewed his circumstances.
Matteo promised to return.
Before leaving, he knelt beside his father's wheelchair.
"I'll come back."
Anthony smiled.
"My lion."
Matteo kissed his forehead.
"I love you, Dad."
Anthony's eyes filled.
"I love you too."
Gabriel embraced him.
Then we left.
During the drive, Matteo was quiet.
I didn't interrupt.
Some grief needed silence.
When we reached the mansion, Eleanor was waiting in the entrance hall.
She looked worried.
"Matteo?"
He embraced her.
"Ellie."
She held him tightly.
"Did you find him?"
Matteo nodded.
"He's alive."
Eleanor began sobbing.
"Oh, sweetheart."
He held her until she stopped shaking.
Then he looked around.
"Where's Margaret?"
Eleanor's expression changed.
"She went out."
I frowned.
"Where?"
"She said she needed to collect something."
Matteo looked at Daniel.
"Did she have security?"
Daniel shook his head.
"She declined an escort."
My stomach tightened.
"How long ago?"
"About an hour."
Matteo reached for his phone.
He called Margaret.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Eleanor began trembling.
"She said she'd be back before dinner."
Matteo turned toward Daniel.
"Find her."
Daniel nodded.
Then the house phone rang.
Rosa answered.
She listened.
Her expression changed.
"Mr. DeLuca."
Matteo turned.
"Who is it?"
Rosa looked frightened.
"Someone asking for you."
Matteo took the receiver.
"DeLuca."
A man's voice answered.
Victor Bellini.
"Did you enjoy your little trip to Wisconsin?"
Matteo's face hardened.
"Where is Margaret?"
Victor laughed softly.
"Always so impatient."
Matteo gripped the phone.
"If you've hurt her—"
"She's alive."
"Where?"
Victor ignored him.
"I hear you found your father."
Matteo said nothing.
"Such a touching reunion."
"Tell me where Margaret is."
Victor's voice became cold.
"Bring me the trust deed."
Matteo stared at the phone.
"And?"
"And the memory card."
"Why?"
"Because some things belong in the past."
Matteo looked toward me.
I felt cold.
Victor continued.
"Come alone."
"Where?"
"The old North Harbor warehouse."
Matteo's expression changed.
The place where Anthony had been shot.
The place where thirty years of lies began.
Victor spoke again.
"Midnight."
Then he added something that made my heart stop.
"And bring Claire Bennett."
Matteo's voice dropped.
"Absolutely not."
Victor laughed.
"Then Margaret Collins won't be coming home."
The call ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Eleanor whispered, "He has her."
Matteo closed his eyes.
I looked at the phone.
Then at the documents spread across the table.
Victor wanted the memory card.
The trust deed.
And me.
I thought about my father.
My mother.
Lily.
And every family Victor had hurt.
Then I looked at Matteo.
"I'm going."
He turned sharply.
"No."
"Matteo—"
"No."
I stepped closer.
"Margaret helped protect my family."
"I know."
"She kept my mother's secrets."
"I know."
"Then I won't leave her there."
Matteo stared at me.
His eyes were filled with fear.
"Claire, he could kill you."
I swallowed.
"I know."
He shook his head.
"I won't let that happen."
I looked directly at him.
"Then help me make sure it doesn't."
Detective Whitmore was contacted immediately.
Within an hour, investigators began planning a controlled response.
Nobody intended to hand Victor the original evidence.
Nobody intended to let Matteo enter the warehouse without protection.
But Victor had chosen the location.
And he believed he controlled the situation.
At 11:47 p.m., Matteo and I arrived near the abandoned warehouse.
Rain fell against the windshield.
The building stood dark beside the river.
Matteo looked at me.
"Last chance to stay back."
I shook my head.
"I'm not leaving Margaret."
He reached for my hand.
"Then stay close."
I nodded.
We stepped into the rain.
And from somewhere inside the warehouse, a woman's voice cried out.
"Matteo!"
Margaret.
We hurried toward the entrance.
Then a light switched on above the door.
A camera turned toward us.
May you like
And Victor Bellini's voice echoed from a speaker.
"Welcome home, children."
