Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF BELIEVING A LIE|
On Saturday morning, I stood in Frank Moretti's hospital room holding a document that claimed I had witnessed him wandering through the mansion, unable to remember his own name.
Frank read it slowly.
Then he looked up at me.
"Claire, why would you say these things about me?"
His question nearly destroyed me.
"I didn't, Mr. Frank."
He looked confused.
"But that's your name."
"Someone copied my signature."
His fingers tightened around the paper.
"Like they copied Luca's?"
"Yes."
He stared at the window.
Outside, gray clouds hung over Chicago.
For several minutes, he said nothing.
Then he whispered, "They must really want me gone."
I pulled a chair beside his bed.
"Nobody's getting rid of you."
He gave a tired smile.
"You're a stubborn girl."
"My mother said the same thing."
"Smart woman."
I laughed despite myself.
Then he reached for my hand.
"Claire, I know I'm getting old."
I shook my head.
"You don't have to explain anything."
"Sometimes I forget where I put my glasses."
"So do I."
"Sometimes I walk into a room and forget why."
"That happens to me too."
He looked at me seriously.
"But I haven't forgotten who my children are."
My throat tightened.
"I know."
"And I haven't forgotten what Vivienne said to me."
"Neither have I."
He glanced toward the door.
"I wish Matteo could remember what kind of family we used to be."
Before I could answer, Luca entered with Maya and another woman.
The woman introduced herself as Dr. Amelia Ellis, an independent geriatric specialist.
Frank stiffened.
"Another doctor?"
Dr. Ellis smiled gently.
"Only if you're comfortable speaking with me, Mr. Moretti."
He studied her.
"Are you going to ask if I remember my wife?"
"Perhaps."
"She died thirty-four years ago."
"I'm sorry."
Frank nodded.
"Her name was Elena."
He smiled sadly.
"And she made the worst coffee in Chicago."
The doctor laughed.
"That sounds like someone worth remembering."
For the next hour, Dr. Ellis spoke privately with Frank and conducted an assessment with his consent.
She asked about his medical history.
His daily activities.
His understanding of the property dispute.
His ability to make decisions.
When she finished, she explained that age, grief, and occasional forgetfulness did not by themselves establish an inability to manage one's affairs.
She would document her findings.
She also recommended that Frank continue receiving appropriate medical care and follow-up.
Frank looked visibly relieved.
"So nobody gets to decide I'm useless just because I'm old?"
"Not on that basis," she told him.
Luca stood near the window.
I watched the tension leave his shoulders.
But the relief didn't last.
Maya's phone rang.
She stepped into the hallway.
When she returned, her expression was grim.
"Matteo's attorney has submitted additional materials for Monday's hearing."
Luca frowned.
"What materials?"
"An updated statement claiming your father may present a danger to himself."
Frank stared at her.
"Me?"
Maya nodded reluctantly.
"They're suggesting he was involved in the fire at Rosa's Table."
I felt sick.
"That's impossible."
"They claim he went there in a confused state and left a hazardous appliance running."
Luca's jaw tightened.
"The building was deliberately set on fire."
"Detective Brooks is investigating exactly that."
Maya paused.
"But they are trying to turn the fire into another argument for guardianship."
Frank's face crumpled.
"I never touched the stove."
Luca immediately crossed the room.
"I know, Dad."
"I was standing beside Claire."
"I know."
Frank began crying.
"I spent my life cooking in that kitchen."
He looked at his son.
"Why would I burn down the only place where I can still remember your mother standing beside me?"
Luca embraced him.
I looked away.
I didn't want Frank to see me crying too.
That afternoon, Maya and Detective Brooks began tracing the forged financial records.
They discovered that the suspicious account had been opened using copies of my employment identification and payroll documents.
The bank was reviewing how the verification process had been compromised.
The records did not prove who opened the account.
But they narrowed the possibilities.
Only a few people had access to the complete employee file used in the application.
Vivienne was one of them.
Her assistant, Corinne Hale, was another.
And the night before Thanksgiving, someone had accessed those files from the mansion's administrative office.
I remembered Corinne.
She was a quiet woman in her forties who rarely spoke unless Vivienne gave her permission.
She had a teenage daughter.
And whenever Vivienne entered the room, Corinne's shoulders seemed to tighten.
Maya asked whether I trusted her.
"I don't know," I admitted.
"She always looked frightened."
"Frightened people sometimes know more than they say."
Late that afternoon, Luca came to see me outside the hospital.
He held two paper cups of coffee.
One was exactly the way I liked it.
Two sugars.
A little milk.
I was surprised he knew.
He handed it to me.
"Claire, about yesterday."
I looked down at the cup.
"You already apologized."
"I didn't apologize properly."
I met his eyes.
He looked more tired than I had ever seen him.
"I've spent years believing the worst about people before they could disappoint me."
He paused.
"That's how I survived."
I said nothing.
"But I used that same habit against someone who had done nothing except protect my father."
His voice softened.
"I'm sorry."
I studied him.
Then I took a sip of coffee.
"Your father doesn't need a feared man protecting him, Luca."
He looked surprised.
"What does he need?"
"A son who listens."
For a long moment, he was silent.
Then he nodded.
"Then that's what I'm going to be."
My phone vibrated.
An unfamiliar number appeared.
I answered.
A woman's voice whispered urgently.
"Claire?"
"Yes?"
"It's Corinne."
I straightened.
"Corinne, where are you?"
"I can't talk long."
She sounded terrified.
"Vivienne knows the bank investigators are asking questions."
"Then you need to tell the police what you know."
"I tried."
Her breath caught.
"They threatened my daughter."
I stood so quickly that my coffee spilled.
"Who did?"
"Matteo's people."
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"Claire, the guardianship hearing isn't the end of their plan."
"What do you mean?"
"Vivienne already arranged for Frank to disappear."
The line crackled.
May you like
Then Corinne said one final thing.
"They're not waiting for the judge."
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