THE DEAD WOMAN’S VOICE IN THE DINING ROOM

The heavy oak door to the sewing room hadn't been opened in nine years.

Or so Luca thought.

I stood a few paces behind him in the dimly lit hallway. The guests were gone. The mansion was dead silent. Only Vanessa and Father Gabriel remained, standing silently behind me.

Luca inserted the brass key. It turned with a heavy click.

He pushed the door open.

I expected the smell of dust and decay. Instead, the faint, unmistakable scent of lilac perfume drifted into the hallway.

Elena’s perfume.

Luca stepped inside. I followed, stopping just inside the doorway.

The room was perfectly preserved. A vintage sewing machine sat by the window. Bolts of expensive fabric lined the walls.

But in the center of the room was something that didn't belong.

A small wooden crib.

Luca walked toward it slowly. His hands trembled as he gripped the wooden rail. Inside, folded neatly, was a baby’s blue knitted blanket.

“She kept him here,” Luca whispered. “Right down the hall from me. For how long?”

“Two years,” Father Gabriel said softly from the doorway.

Luca spun around. “And you knew? My mother hid a child in this house, murdered a man to protect him, and you said nothing?”

“I am bound by confession, Luciano.”

Luca looked at Vanessa. She was standing with her arms crossed, looking defensive but exhausted.

“You said my mother killed your father because he found the boy,” Luca said. “Who is the boy, Vanessa?”

“I don't know his name,” she said bitterly. “But I know why she hid him. Look under the floorboards beneath the crib.”

Luca knelt in his expensive suit. He pried up a loose wooden board.

He pulled out a small, tarnished silver pocket watch.

He clicked it open.

I gasped.

Inside the watch cover was a tiny photograph. It was a picture of Luca’s father, holding a newborn baby.

“My father’s watch,” Luca said. He looked confused. “He lost this years before he died.”

“He didn't lose it,” Vanessa said. “He left it behind on the night he took that child away from your mother.”

Luca stood up. “My father took the boy?”

“Yes.” Vanessa’s eyes burned with angry tears. “Your mother didn't hide the boy from my father, Luca. She hid him from your father. Because that baby wasn't an heir. He was a threat.”

Luca stared at the photograph in the watch.

“Why would a baby be a threat to the Moretti family?”

Vanessa stepped fully into the room.

“Because your mother had an affair, Luca. That boy wasn't your father’s son. He was a bastard. And in your family, a bastard who challenges the bloodline is eliminated.”

The room spun.

Elena Moretti, the perfect, tragic mafia wife, had betrayed her husband.

“That’s a lie,” Luca growled, stepping toward Vanessa.

“It’s the truth!” Vanessa shot back. “Your father found out. He took the boy the night before he died in that 'accidental' car crash. He was going to get rid of him. My father tried to help your mother stop him, and she poisoned him to keep the secret buried!”

Luca looked at Father Gabriel.

“Is it true?”

The old priest gripped his cane tightly.

“Half of it is true, Luciano.”

“Which half?”

Father Gabriel pointed a shaking finger at the silver pocket watch in Luca’s hand.

“The boy wasn't Elena’s son.”

The silence in the room was absolute.

“What?” Vanessa whispered, her confidence shattering.

“Elena didn't have an affair,” the priest said softly. “Your father did, Luciano. The baby belonged to his mistress.”

Luca’s jaw clenched. “Then why did my mother hide him here?”

“Because the mistress was murdered,” Father Gabriel said. “And Elena knew that if your father found the boy, he would kill the child too.”