Chapter 2
THE WOMAN WITH MY MOTHER’S FACE
Lucia’s smile disappeared the instant Mama turned toward me.
“What is it, Emma?” Mama asked.
I closed my fist around the memory card and forced my face to remain still.
At four years old, I did not understand conspiracies, hidden ledgers, or the way powerful men lied while smiling. But I understood danger. Danger was the reason Mama checked every bite of food before I ate it. Danger was the reason she locked the basement door whenever strangers entered the mansion.
And danger was sitting across the hospital room wearing my mother’s face.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
Lucia continued watching me.
Mama came closer and brushed my hair from my forehead. “You should sleep.”
I nodded, pretending to tuck the blanket around my rabbit. Instead, I slid the memory card beneath its torn ear.
For the next hour, Lucia told Mama about the years she had spent imprisoned in the east wing.
Her story was full of darkness.
She described how Luca brought food at night, how he threatened to hurt Mama if she tried to escape, and how she had watched the mansion through hidden service passages. She said she had seen Gabriel’s portrait, watched Alejandro grieve, and waited for the right moment to expose the truth.
Mama believed every word.
I saw it in her eyes.
She wanted her sister back so badly that she ignored the questions Lucia never answered.
Why had she possessed the east-wing key?
Who had placed the second EpiPen inside my backpack?
And why had someone warned me not to trust her?
When Lucia finally fell asleep, I climbed from the bed.
Mama dozed in the chair beside the window.
The hallway outside was guarded by two Moretti men. I hugged my rabbit against my chest and stepped into the corridor.
One guard lowered his weapon.
“Where are you going, little one?”
“To see Mr. Moretti.”
“He is resting.”
“I have something for him.”
The guard hesitated.
Then Alejandro’s voice came from the open doorway.
“Let her in.”
His hospital room was darker than ours. Machines blinked beside the bed. An oxygen tube ran beneath his nose, and his skin still looked pale.
But his eyes were awake.
Sharp.
Waiting.
The guards closed the door behind me.
Alejandro studied my rabbit.
“What did you find?”
My mouth fell open.
“How did you know?”
“Because you looked at Lucia the way my enemies look at unlocked doors.”
I climbed onto the chair beside him and pulled the memory card from the rabbit’s ear.
His expression changed when he saw the note.
He read it twice.
Then he looked at me.
“Did Lucia see this?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You did well.”
I lowered my head.
“Is she bad?”
Alejandro was silent for a long moment.
“I don’t know.”
“Can you find out?”
“Yes.”
He pressed a call button.
Marco entered seconds later.
Alejandro handed him the card.
“No network connection,” he said. “Use an isolated device. No copies. No outside technicians.”
Marco nodded.
“And Marco,” Alejandro added, “Lucia is not to leave her room.”
The guard frowned. “Do you believe she is working with Luca?”
“I believe someone wants us to believe something.”
The card contained one video.
It had been recorded five years earlier.
The image showed a parking garage beneath the Belladonna Hotel. Gabriel Moretti stood beside a black car, rainwater dripping from his coat.
He was younger than the portrait above the staircase, but I recognized the scar near his eyebrow.
A woman approached him.
At first, the camera caught only her back.
Then she turned.
Mama gasped from the doorway behind us.
We had not heard her enter.
The woman in the video was Lucia.
Gabriel handed her an envelope.
“If anything happens to me,” he said, “take this to Isabella.”
Lucia opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Mama.
“She is pregnant,” Gabriel continued. “Luca knows. He believes the child can be used against Alejandro one day.”
Lucia looked frightened.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Protect them.”
Then another voice spoke from behind the camera.
A woman’s voice.
“You are already too late.”
The image shook.
Gabriel spun around.
Lucia reached inside her coat.
The video ended.
Mama covered her mouth.
“That proves nothing,” she whispered.
Alejandro replayed the final seconds.
Lucia’s hand moved toward her coat.
Not away from danger.
Toward something hidden inside.
A weapon, perhaps.
Or another envelope.
Mama stepped backward.
“No. She was trying to help him.”
“Maybe,” Alejandro said.
The door opened.
Lucia stood outside, surrounded by guards.
She had heard everything.
Her face was calm.
Too calm.
“You should have destroyed that recording,” she said.
Mama stared at her.
“Why?”
Lucia looked at me.
“Because now Luca knows Emma has it.”
The hospital lights died.
A second later, the emergency alarms began to scream.
May you like
And from inside Alejandro’s locked medical cabinet came the slow, deliberate sound of someone turning a key.
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