Chapter 4 - THE LITTLE SILVER STAR
“The bracelet your daughter wears,” Luca said, “I need to see it.”
I stared at him across the kitchen table.
“Lily's bracelet?”
“The one with the silver star.”
My hand moved automatically toward my apron pocket.
Inside was a photograph of Lily wearing that bracelet on her seventh birthday.
She'd smiled so proudly.
I'd told her it was a gift from someone who cared about her.
Because that was exactly what Evelyn had written in the card.
“It's at home,” I said.
Luca studied my face.
“Sarah, I know this is frightening.”
“No,” I interrupted. “You don't.”
He grew quiet.
“Your family has secrets. Your family has money. Your family can hire investigators and accountants.”
My voice trembled.
“I have a little girl who cries when she tries to climb stairs.”
Luca lowered his eyes.
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
He didn't answer.
I took a breath.
“Then please stop treating my daughter like another piece of evidence.”
For a moment, the only sound was the refrigerator humming.
Then Luca nodded.
“You're right.”
He pushed the photograph back toward me.
“I'm sorry.”
His apology surprised me.
But what he said next surprised me more.
“Lily's medical care will not depend on whether you help me investigate anything. You have my word.”
That afternoon, I went home to my small apartment on Chicago's South Side.
Lily was sitting at the kitchen table with Mrs. Jenkins, our neighbor.
She was drawing a purple house with a yellow roof.
When she saw me, her face brightened.
“Mommy!”
She climbed down carefully, favoring her right leg.
I crossed the room and gathered her into my arms.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“You smell like the hospital.”
I laughed softly.
“That's because I went to one.”
“Is Grandma Evelyn okay?”
My throat tightened.
Lily had called Evelyn Grandma for months.
Evelyn never corrected her.
“She hurt her shoulder, honey. But the doctors are taking care of her.”
Lily considered that.
“Can I make her a card?”
“She'd love that.”
Mrs. Jenkins gave me a concerned look.
After Lily returned to her drawing, she followed me into the hallway.
“Sarah, the hospital called yesterday.”
My stomach dropped.
“What did they say?”
“They need confirmation about the surgery deposit.”
I closed my eyes.
The deadline was approaching.
Even after Luca's promise, I had trouble believing everything could change so quickly.
For months, every good possibility had disappeared behind another bill.
“It's being handled,” I said.
Mrs. Jenkins touched my arm.
“I hope so, honey.”
When I returned to the kitchen, Lily held up her drawing.
“Look, Mommy.”
The purple house had four people standing outside.
One was Lily.
One was me.
One was Evelyn.
The fourth was a tall man wearing a blue coat.
“Who's that?” I asked.
Lily looked surprised.
“The man who gave me my bracelet.”
My heart stopped.
“What man?”
“The nice man with the brown hat.”
I sat beside her.
“Sweetheart, when did you meet him?”
“At Grandma Evelyn's birthday.”
I remembered that afternoon.
Evelyn had invited Lily to the mansion garden.
There had been cake and balloons.
I'd been helping in the kitchen when an elderly gardener brought Lily inside.
I hadn't seen any stranger.
“Did he tell you his name?”
Lily shook her head.
“He said I could call him Uncle Matt.”
I called Luca immediately.
Twenty minutes later, he arrived at my apartment.
He wore a dark coat over his black shirt.
Without the mansion around him, he seemed less intimidating.
He crouched beside Lily's chair.
“Hi, Lily.”
She looked at his tattooed hands.
“Did those hurt?”
“A little.”
“Why'd you get so many?”
Luca smiled faintly.
“Made some questionable decisions when I was younger.”
Lily considered that answer.
Then returned to her coloring.
I showed him the drawing.
He stared at the figure in the blue coat.
“Matteo,” he whispered.
“Your brother met my daughter.”
Luca nodded slowly.
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“I wish I knew.”
Lily suddenly reached for her bracelet.
“Uncle Matt said the star means somebody's looking out for me.”
Luca's expression softened.
“Did he?”
She nodded.
“He said Grandma Evelyn knew his mommy.”
For the first time, Luca actually laughed.
“She did.”
Lily looked pleased.
Then she held out the bracelet.
“See?”
Luca examined it without removing it from her wrist.
A small engraving appeared beneath the star.
A.M. — ALWAYS REMEMBER.
His smile faded.
“Those are my father's initials,” he said.
I stared at him.
“Antonio Moretti?”
He nodded.
“My father gave Matteo a bracelet like this when we were boys.”
He looked at Lily again.
“Would you mind if I took a photograph of it?”
She agreed after he explained why.
But as Luca raised his phone, Lily said something neither of us expected.
“Uncle Matt said not to let the angry lady see it.”
“What angry lady?” I asked.
“The one with the red shoes.”
Vanessa.
At the engagement party, she'd worn red satin heels.
My pulse quickened.
“Lily, where did you see that lady?”
“At Grandma Evelyn's house.”
“Was Uncle Matt there?”
Lily nodded.
“She told him he wasn't allowed.”
Luca went rigid.
“When?”
Lily shrugged.
“A long time ago.”
For a seven-year-old, that could mean yesterday or six months earlier.
I didn't press her.
But Luca looked deeply disturbed.
Vanessa had known Matteo was still in contact with Evelyn.
And she'd never mentioned it.
That evening, Daniel recovered the blue coat.
Peter Walsh had left it in a locker at the Milwaukee train station.
He'd taken it because Richard Bellini threatened to cancel his daughter's remaining educational support unless he cooperated.
Peter had agreed to speak with investigators.
But the lining had already been cut open.
Whatever Evelyn had hidden there was gone.
Luca called me from the mansion.
“Someone reached it first.”
“Richard?”
“We don't know.”
I looked at Lily sleeping on the couch.
Her silver bracelet gleamed beneath the lamp.
Then I remembered something.
“Mr. Moretti, what if the coat wasn't meant to hide the evidence?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if it was meant to lead you to someone who already had it?”
Silence.
Then Luca said, “Matteo.”
The next morning, I accompanied Luca to Milwaukee.
We met Peter Walsh at a modest diner near the station, with Daniel waiting nearby.
Peter looked exhausted.
His hands shook around a cup of coffee.
“I didn't know Mrs. Moretti was hurt,” he said.
“I only knew Bellini wanted the coat.”
Luca watched him carefully.
“Who did you give it to?”
Peter shook his head.
“Nobody. I left it where they told me.”
“Who told you?”
Peter reached into his jacket.
He removed a small photograph.
It showed Antonio Moretti standing beside a teenage boy.
On the back was an address.
A community center in Milwaukee.
“Someone left this in my locker,” Peter said. “I figured it was a warning.”
Luca took the photograph.
His expression changed.
“That's not a warning.”
“Then what is it?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“An invitation.”
We drove to the address.
The community center was an aging brick building surrounded by maple trees.
Inside, children were painting at folding tables.
A woman at the front desk looked up.
“Can I help you?”
Luca showed her Matteo's photograph.
“We're looking for this man.”
She studied it.
Then smiled.
“Oh. Mr. Matthew.”
My heart began pounding.
“Does he work here?” Luca asked.
“Every Thursday.”
“Is he here now?”
She glanced toward the hallway.
“He's teaching the scholarship kids.”
Luca moved toward the classroom.
But the woman stepped in front of him.
“Before you go in, there's something you should know.”
She pointed toward a framed photograph on the wall.
It showed twelve children standing beside a man in a brown hat.
All were smiling.
Beneath the photograph was a brass plaque.
THE ANTONIO MORETTI CHILDREN'S TRUST — SUPPORTED BY MATTHEW COLLINS.
I stopped breathing.
Collins.
My last name.
The same name as my late husband.
And beneath the plaque was another photograph.
A young man holding a newborn baby.
My baby.
Lily.
I gripped the wall.
“That's my husband.”
Luca turned toward me.
“Sarah?”
My voice barely worked.
“That's David Collins.”
The man I'd buried five years earlier.
May you like
The man I'd believed had died in a warehouse accident.
And standing beside him in the photograph was Matteo Moretti.
