Chapter 3 - THE EMPTY CAR SEAT
The silence in the dining room shattered.
Teresa let out a cry that tore through my chest, dropping the yellow sweater onto the floor. Luca caught her before she collapsed, his face paler than I had ever seen it.
“Where exactly on Interstate 90?” Luca demanded, his voice dangerously calm.
“Near the toll bridge, sir,” the stranger replied. “The police are already here. There’s no sign of the mother or the child.”
Luca hung up. He slowly turned to Vincent.
“If your man touched one hair on my sister’s head,” Luca said softly, “I will burn your entire legacy to the ground.”
Vincent stood up, his silver hair catching the light. For the first time, the older man looked genuinely panicked. “I told Marcus to take them to the private terminal. Nothing else. She must have run.”
Vanessa grabbed Luca’s arm. “Darling, you see? Sofia is unstable! I tried to tell you!”
Luca looked down at Vanessa’s hand on his sleeve. Then he looked at me.
“Hannah, take my mother upstairs. Call Dr. Evans. Tell him to get here now.”
“Yes, sir.” I knelt to pick up the yellow sweater, my hands shaking as I helped Teresa to her feet. The old woman was weeping, her fingers clutching my uniform.
As we reached the grand staircase, I glanced back. Luca was already storming toward the front doors, shrugging off his suit jacket. Vincent was shouting into his own phone. And Vanessa…
Vanessa was standing by the fireplace.
She wasn't crying. She wasn't panicking.
She was typing a text message.
When I settled Teresa into her bed, the old woman grabbed my wrist with surprising strength.
“Hannah,” she whispered, her eyes wide with terror. “Sofia didn't run. She would never leave the baby’s car seat on the highway.”
“I know, Mrs. Moretti. I know.”
“You have to look in the coat closet,” Teresa gasped, her breathing shallow. “Downstairs. Under the stairs.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because when Sofia was a little girl and she was scared…” Teresa’s voice broke. “She always hid in the dark.”
I ran back downstairs. The guests were murmuring, slowly filing out the front doors. The engagement party was effectively over.
I slipped past the caterers and hurried to the heavy oak door tucked beneath the grand staircase. The coat closet.
I turned the brass knob. It was locked.
I pulled my master key from my apron, my hands trembling so badly I dropped it twice. Finally, the lock clicked.
I swung the door open and reached for the light string.
The small bulb flickered on.
There was no one inside.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. But as I turned to leave, my foot hit something soft in the darkness.
I looked down.
It was a delicate, silver rosary.
I recognized it immediately. I’d seen it every day for the past eleven months.
May you like
It belonged to Vanessa.
And lying right next to it, wrapped in a blue hospital blanket, was a sleeping newborn baby.
