Chapter 3 - THE CALL LUCA NEVER RECEIVED
Luca stood without saying anything.
For the first time since I had met him, he looked genuinely disoriented.
“My wife did not call me that night.”
Sophia shook her head.
“She did.”
“I checked her phone records myself.”
“She called you.”
“At what time?”
Sophia’s face tightened with the effort of remembering.
“I don’t know.”
“Before you left the house?”
She nodded.
“What did she say?”
“I don’t know.”
Luca’s voice became too urgent.
“Sophia, think.”
Dr. Benton intervened.
“Stop.”
He turned.
“She remembers something about the night my wife died.”
“And she is seven years old.”
“This matters.”
“It will matter tomorrow too.”
“I’ve spent three years believing a guardrail failure killed Alessandra.”
“And pushing Sophia until she dissociates will not bring your wife back.”
His anger appeared instantly.
Then disappeared just as fast.
That interested me.
Luca Moretti was frightening.
But he could listen.
“Sophia.”
I took her hand.
“We don’t have to talk about it now.”
She stared at the floor.
“The man had that thing.”
She pointed at the tattoo.
“What did it look like?”
Matteo asked gently.
Sophia traced something against her palm.
“A bird.”
The security officer enlarged the image.
The tattoo was dark and indistinct.
But beneath the cuff of the fake banquet jacket, the edge of a wing was visible.
Matteo muttered something under his breath.
Luca heard him.
“What?”
“I’ve seen it.”
“Where?”
“North Pier security.”
That meant nothing to me.
It meant something to Luca.
His expression closed.
“Which crew?”
“Old Marconi contractors.”
Dr. Benton looked confused.
I did too.
Luca did not explain.
He asked Matteo, “How many still work for us?”
“Officially?”
The word hung there.
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
“How many?”
“Six.”
“Names.”
Matteo began typing.
I looked down at Sophia.
Her eyelids were heavy.
Whatever adrenaline had carried her across the ballroom was fading.
“We need to get her out of here.”
Dr. Benton agreed.
“She needs rest.”
Sophia tightened her hand around mine.
“Hannah comes.”
Luca looked at me.
I almost said no.
Then I remembered the stolen phone.
The missing footage.
The tattoo.
And the child who had waited three years because someone had made sure I stayed away.
“I’ll come.”
Sophia finally relaxed.
Luca looked toward the hotel supervisor.
“My car will take them through the private garage.”
“I have my own car.”
“No.”
His tone left no room.
I stared at him.
He corrected himself.
“Your car is publicly registered.”
“So is everyone’s.”
“Dominic knows who you are.”
“You don’t know Dominic did any of this.”
Luca held my gaze.
“No.”
“Then why are you treating him like he did?”
“Because Dominic was my father’s closest friend.”
“That isn’t evidence.”
“He built the foundation.”
Still not evidence.
“He approved every piece of correspondence involving Sophia.”
That was closer.
“And he disappeared twelve minutes before my daughter crossed the ballroom toward the one woman he apparently ordered away.”
That was closer still.
Luca stepped toward me.
“Hannah.”
For the first time, he said my name without suspicion.
“If I am wrong, Dominic will be angry.”
“If I am right, whoever broke into your locker now knows there is something on that recording worth stealing.”
I looked at Sophia.
“Fine.”
We took the private elevator.
Thirty minutes later, I entered Luca Moretti’s house for the first time.
House was the wrong word.
It occupied nearly half a block in Lincoln Park behind limestone walls and black iron gates.
Security cameras watched every approach.
Two men checked the vehicle before it passed the second gate.
Inside, however, the mansion did not feel like the home of a criminal emperor.
It felt like the home of a child.
Sophia’s drawings covered one wall of the breakfast room.
A purple backpack rested beside the staircase.
A half-finished puzzle sat on a low table.
A pair of small orthopedic braces leaned near the mudroom.
Evidence of her existed everywhere.
Evidence of Luca barely existed at all.
Sophia refused to go upstairs until I promised I would still be there when she woke.
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
“Say it right.”
The question hurt.
I crouched in front of her.
“Three breaths.”
Her eyes filled.
“Then home.”
“And?”
This part I remembered from the river.
“No matter how dark it gets, I won’t leave before the lights come back.”
Sophia wrapped her arms around me.
Luca turned his face away.
Dr. Benton accompanied her upstairs.
That left Luca and me alone.
Almost.
Matteo stood near the library doors.
Three security men moved quietly through the halls.
Luca poured water instead of alcohol.
He handed me a glass.
“Tell me exactly what happened after the bridge.”
“You know the public version.”
“I want yours.”
So I gave it to him.
I told him about seeing tire tracks disappearing through a broken barrier.
About stopping because everyone else had continued driving.
About the car lights glowing beneath the river.
About calling 911.
About climbing over the guardrail.
About the freezing water.
About finding Alessandra unconscious behind the wheel.
About realizing I could not free her.
About hearing Sophia screaming from the rear seat.
I stopped there.
Luca’s face had become rigid.
“You tried to get Alessandra out?”
“For almost a minute.”
He stared at the floor.
“No one told me that.”
“The official report says I entered through the rear passenger window.”
“The report does not say you reached my wife.”
“I did.”
“Was she alive?”
I hesitated.
That answer had haunted me.
“I don’t know.”
“Hannah.”
“I don’t know.”
“She wasn’t moving.”
“Then why did you keep trying?”
“Because I could feel a pulse.”
Luca’s glass stopped halfway to his mouth.
“What?”
I froze.
Something in the room changed.
“What did you say?”
His voice became almost inaudible.
“I thought I felt a pulse.”
“When?”
“Before I went for Sophia.”
“How strong?”
“I’m not a doctor.”
“How long after the crash?”
“Maybe three minutes.”
Luca turned toward Matteo.
“My wife was pronounced dead on impact.”
Matteo’s expression had gone pale.
“The coroner said catastrophic trauma.”
“But Hannah felt a pulse.”
“I could have been wrong.”
Luca looked back at me.
“What happened when emergency crews arrived?”
“They took Sophia.”
“And Alessandra?”
“They worked on the car.”
“Did you see them remove her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I was taken to Northwestern with hypothermia.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
Then the library door opened.
A security man entered.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Luca turned.
“We reached Ms. Carter’s apartment.”
My stomach dropped.
“And?”
The man looked at me.
“The door was open.”
I stopped breathing.
“Was anything taken?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“What about the laptop?”
His silence answered first.
Then he said, “It’s gone.”
Luca’s eyes became cold.
“Anything else?”
The man nodded.
“There was a message.”
My hands started shaking.
“What message?”
“He wrote it on the kitchen wall.”
Luca’s voice lowered.
“What did it say?”
The guard looked at me.
May you like
Then he repeated the six words someone had written inside my home.
“You should have stayed in the river.”
