Chapter 4 - THE VAULT AT MERCY GENERAL
The rain had stopped by morning, leaving the Chicago streets slick and gray under an overcast sky.
The three of us sat in the back of Luca’s black SUV. Samuel sat in the middle, still wearing his father’s old wool coat despite the heavy heater blowing through the vents. I sat on his right, Luca on his left.
Nobody had spoken since we left the mansion.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was heavy with anticipation. We had watched Vanessa’s bags being loaded into a taxi late last night. She had screamed and cried in the foyer, threatening to ruin Luca’s reputation, but Luca had simply walked away, locking the heavy front doors behind her.
Now, the only thing that mattered was the yellow ticket sitting in Luca’s hand.
"Luca?" Samuel asked quietly, breaking the silence as we pulled onto the hospital campus.
"Yeah, buddy?"
"What if the hospital won't give it to us? The ticket has Vanessa's name on it."
Luca looked at his brother, a grim smile touching his lips. "I own the land this hospital was built on, Sammy. The administrators know exactly who I am. They’ll give us the envelope."
The SUV pulled up to the front entrance. We walked through the sliding glass doors, the smell of antiseptic and stale coffee hitting me instantly. I saw Samuel tense up. This was the first time he had been back to Mercy General since the night Frank died.
I reached down and gently took Samuel’s hand. He looked up at me, his eyes wide and vulnerable, and squeezed my fingers tightly.
Luca led us straight past the reception desk and down a long corridor to the administrative offices. He didn't ask for permission to enter. He pushed open the heavy mahogany door labeled Director of Patient Services.
A woman in a gray suit looked up, startled. "Excuse me, sir, you can't just—"
She stopped, recognizing him immediately. "Mr. Moretti."
"Helen," Luca said, his voice polite but leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. "I need to access the Patient Effects Vault."
He placed the yellow claim ticket on her desk.
Helen looked at the ticket, then typed something into her computer. Her brow furrowed. "Mr. Moretti, this ticket was issued the night your father passed. But the authorizing signature belongs to a Vanessa Bellini."
"I am aware," Luca said. "Vanessa Bellini is no longer associated with my family. The item in that vault belonged to my father, Frank Moretti. I am his executor. I want it now."
Helen hesitated, looking at the screen. "Technically, hospital policy states—"
"Helen," Luca interrupted softly. "Don't talk to me about policy. My father died in this hospital, and a woman who was not his legal next-of-kin was allowed to lock his possessions in your vault. If you'd like, I can have my lawyers discuss your policy with the medical board."
Helen swallowed hard. "I'll retrieve the item immediately, Mr. Moretti."
She stood up and scurried out a back door.
We waited in silence. Samuel’s grip on my hand grew painfully tight. I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles, trying to offer whatever comfort I could.
Five minutes later, Helen returned.
She was carrying a thick, brown manila envelope. It was sealed with heavy red tape. She handed it to Luca across the desk.
"I'm very sorry for the confusion, Mr. Moretti," she said nervously.
Luca didn't answer. He stared at the envelope in his hands. It was surprisingly heavy. He turned and walked out of the office, and Samuel and I followed him to a quiet waiting area near the windows.
Luca sat down on a vinyl couch. Samuel sat next to him, and I stood a few feet away, feeling suddenly like I was intruding on a deeply private moment.
"You don't have to leave, Hannah," Luca said, sensing my hesitation without even looking up. "You're a part of this now."
I nodded slowly and sat down on the edge of the chair across from them.
Luca slid his finger under the red tape, breaking the seal. The sound of the ripping paper was deafening in the quiet hallway.
He opened the flap and reached inside.
He pulled out a small, worn, black velvet jewelry box.
Samuel leaned closer. "What is it?"
Luca stared at the box. His hands were shaking. He pressed the small brass button on the front, and the lid popped open.
Inside, resting on faded white satin, was a delicate silver bracelet. It was tarnished with age, and a single blue sapphire sat in the center.
I heard Samuel gasp. "That's Mom's."
My heart broke at the sound of his voice. Sammy’s mother had died when he was only four years old. I knew from the few stories Frank used to tell that he had loved her desperately.
"Dad kept it on his bedside table," Samuel whispered, reaching out to touch the silver chain. "He never took it off the nightstand. Not ever."
"I know," Luca said, his voice thick with emotion. "When I packed up his room, I couldn't find it. I thought it was lost."
"Why did Vanessa lock Mom's bracelet in a vault?" Samuel asked, his face crumpling. "Why would she do that?"
"I don't think she just locked it away, Sammy," Luca said, his jaw tightening. "I think she was hiding it."
Luca reached into the brown envelope again.
"There's something else in here," he said.
He pulled out a folded piece of white hospital stationery. The paper was creased heavily, as if someone had folded and unfolded it dozens of times.
Luca opened the letter. As his eyes moved across the page, I watched the color completely drain from his face. The protective anger that had carried him through the morning vanished, replaced by sheer, unadulterated horror.
"Luca?" Samuel asked, terrified by his brother's expression. "What does it say?"
Luca didn't answer. He just kept staring at the paper, his breathing turning shallow and fast.
"Mr. Moretti," I said gently, leaning forward. "What's wrong?"
Luca slowly looked up at me. His dark eyes were wide, shining with unshed tears. He looked back down at the letter, his voice shaking so badly he could barely get the words out.
"Dad didn't hide the bracelet," Luca whispered, a tear finally breaking free and rolling down his cheek. "And Vanessa didn't put it in the vault."
"Then who did?" Samuel asked.
May you like
Luca turned the paper around so we could see the messy, frantic handwriting.
"Aunt June did," Luca said, his voice cracking entirely. "And she left us a warning."
