Chapter 6 - The Woman in the Photograph|
I wanted to throw my phone across the room.
Instead, I forced myself to remain calm.
"What secret, Father?"
Vittorio Moretti laughed softly.
"You're beginning to sound like your mother."
"Then perhaps you should answer me the way you never answered her."
The silence on the other end stretched.
Finally, he said, "Bring me the necklace, Alessia."
"No."
His voice dropped.
"You have no idea what you're involving yourself in."
"Then explain it."
"Some things are better left buried."
I looked at Dante.
He was standing beside the desk, listening carefully.
"My mother is buried," I said.
"And I'm finished pretending that means her questions should be buried too."
I ended the call.
My hands were shaking.
Dante approached slowly.
"Are you all right?"
"No."
He looked almost surprised by my honesty.
"Would you like me to deal with your father?"
"Not yet."
I took a breath.
"He's spent my whole life telling me what I'm allowed to know."
I placed the necklace in my palm.
"I'm going to find out what really happened to her."
Dante nodded.
"Then I'll help you."
I studied him.
"Why?"
He glanced toward the hallway where Nico's laughter could be heard.
"Because three days ago, my son was frightened to look me in the eye."
His expression tightened.
"And because someone I trusted helped make that happen."
The next morning, Dante brought in Priya Shah, an independent forensic accountant who had previously investigated corporate fraud.
He gave her complete access to the Harbor Renewal records.
Meanwhile, Mara discovered that my mother's final employer had transferred its archives to a private records company.
One name appeared repeatedly in the correspondence.
Evelyn Park.
She had been my mother's attorney.
According to Mara, Evelyn was still practicing law in Chicago.
I wanted to call her immediately.
But before I could, Nico appeared in the office carrying his mother's photograph.
"Alessia?"
"Yes?"
"Can you fix something?"
He held out the picture.
Its wooden frame had begun separating at one corner.
"Of course."
I took it gently.
The photograph showed a smiling woman with chestnut hair holding a much younger Nico on the steps of a brick building.
Elena DeLuca.
She looked warm and alive, laughing into the sunlight.
For a moment, I wondered how it felt to have a photograph of your mother looking at you that way.
My childhood pictures had mostly disappeared after the fire.
I eased the backing away from the broken frame.
A folded piece of paper slipped out.
Nico leaned forward.
"That's Mommy's secret note."
I froze.
"You knew it was there?"
He nodded.
"She told me to keep it safe."
"Did she tell you why?"
His expression became serious.
"She said sometimes people forget the truth when someone important tells them to."
I unfolded the paper.
On it were three handwritten lines.
Evelyn Park.
17 Pier Road, Unit 4.
The truth belongs to the children.
Dante appeared beside me.
I handed him the note.
He read it twice.
Then he looked at the photograph.
"That's the old Harbor Records building."
My heart began racing.
"Seventeen Pier Road?"
He nodded.
"Elena volunteered there during the waterfront redevelopment lawsuit."
I looked at Nico.
"Sweetheart, do you remember going there with Mommy?"
He nodded.
"She bought me ice cream afterward."
"What else do you remember?"
He thought for a moment.
"A lady with yellow glasses."
Evelyn Park, perhaps.
"Anything else?"
Nico stared at the photograph.
"Mommy was crying in the car."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Did she say why?"
He nodded slowly.
"She said some people were stealing houses from families."
Dante looked away.
I could almost see the pieces rearranging themselves inside his mind.
His wife had been investigating the same project my mother had audited years earlier.
Both women had left warnings.
Both women were dead.
And both had hidden information from the powerful people around them.
That afternoon, Dante and I drove to Evelyn Park's office.
She was a sharp-eyed woman in her seventies, wearing bright yellow reading glasses.
When she saw the necklace in my hand, she gripped the edge of her desk.
"Lucia's daughter."
I nodded.
Evelyn's eyes filled with tears.
"I wondered whether you would ever come."
"You knew my mother?"
"She was the bravest client I ever represented."
My voice broke.
"Then why didn't anyone tell me what happened?"
Evelyn looked toward Dante.
"Because people with money made sure the truth stayed quiet."
She opened a drawer and removed a worn folder.
"Your mother discovered that Harbor Renewal was being used to divert money intended for affordable housing."
"Who was responsible?"
Evelyn's expression hardened.
"Your father signed several of the transactions."
I felt sick.
"And Salvatore DeLuca?" Dante asked.
"He approved the transfers."
"Did my mother have proof?"
Evelyn nodded.
"She did."
"Where is it?"
"She separated the original evidence from the copies for her own safety."
Evelyn looked at the locket.
"That necklace was meant to lead you to one part of it."
Before she could explain, her office phone rang.
She answered, listened, and turned pale.
When she hung up, her hands were trembling.
"Someone just tried to access my archived client files using a forged court order."
Dante straightened.
"Who?"
May you like
Evelyn looked directly at me.
"The person listed on the request was Valentina Russo."
