Chapter 4
“My name is on all of them?”
I stared at the delivery records.
Daniel nodded.
“Every cancellation and every confirmation.”
I couldn't stop shaking.
Luca moved the papers away from me.
“Hannah, look at me.”
I raised my eyes.
“You didn't authorize those changes?”
“No, sir.”
“Then that's where we start.”
Mrs. Carter stepped forward.
“Mr. Moretti, Vanessa asked for a copy of the staff roster in August.”
Luca turned.
“Why?”
“She said the delivery company needed emergency contacts.”
“And you gave it to her?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Carter looked at me.
“I didn't know she would use Hannah's name.”
I wanted to be angry.
But Mrs. Carter looked genuinely ashamed.
Daniel examined the pages again.
“These aren't handwritten signatures. They're typed authorizations.”
“So anyone could have entered my name?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “These records don't establish who submitted them.”
For the first time since seeing my name, I could breathe.
Not comfortably.
But enough to think.
Luca placed his hand on the table.
“We are not accusing anyone based on a name in a box. We'll establish who actually made the changes.”
Teresa quietly closed the folder.
“Tomorrow morning,” she said, “we're going to Margaret.”
Luca turned.
“Mom, you should get some rest.”
She gave him a look.
“I intend to sleep. Then I intend to visit my friend.”
He almost smiled.
“Yes, ma'am.”
The following morning, we bought groceries.
Teresa insisted on using her seventy-three dollars.
She chose chicken, potatoes, bread, milk, apples, and oatmeal.
I carried the bags.
Luca paid for another basket of food after asking whether Margaret might welcome it.
And Teresa selected six yellow carnations.
“Not roses,” she told the florist. “Antonio always bought carnations.”
Margaret Ellis lived on the second floor of a narrow brick apartment building.
The stairs were steep.
Luca carried the heavier bags.
When Margaret opened her apartment door, she stood motionless.
“Teresa?”
“Hello, Maggie.”
The two women looked at each other.
Then Margaret began crying.
“Oh, honey. You came.”
Teresa stepped forward and embraced her.
“I should've come sooner.”
Margaret held her tightly.
“You didn't know.”
Her apartment was small but spotless.
A knitted blanket covered the sofa.
A photograph of her late husband stood beside an old television.
There was a blue plate on the kitchen counter.
And almost nothing in the refrigerator.
Margaret noticed me looking.
“Don't you worry about that, sweetheart. I've been managing.”
Teresa touched her arm.
“Managing isn't the same as eating properly.”
Margaret laughed through her tears.
“Still bossy, aren't you?”
“Only with people I love.”
I put the groceries away while Luca carried the flowers to the kitchen sink.
Margaret found a glass jar for them.
Then she looked at him.
“You have your father's eyes.”
Luca swallowed.
“It's good to see you, Mrs. Ellis.”
“Margaret. You haven't been twelve years old in a long time.”
He smiled.
We sat around her little kitchen table.
Teresa asked about the deliveries.
Margaret confirmed that the regular shopping had stopped in August.
“The first couple of baskets came,” she explained. “Then nothing.”
“Did anyone tell you why?” Luca asked.
Margaret hesitated.
“Vanessa came by.”
I stopped moving.
“When?” Teresa asked.
“Near the end of August.”
“What did she say?”
Margaret looked uncomfortable.
“She said you were becoming overwhelmed, Teresa.”
My heart sank.
“She said it was best not to bother you with grocery requests anymore.”
Teresa sat very still.
Margaret continued.
“I told her I didn't want to trouble anybody. But I never meant to stop the deliveries.”
“Did she ask you to sign anything?” Luca asked.
“No.”
“Did she say you had refused help?”
Margaret shook her head.
“Of course not.”
Then she lowered her eyes.
“She seemed upset about something. I thought perhaps she was having a hard time herself.”
That surprised me.
After what Vanessa had done, I hadn't expected anyone to defend her.
Margaret noticed my expression.
“You know, Hannah, she wasn't always like this.”
Luca looked up.
“You knew Vanessa?”
“Since she was a little girl.”
Margaret stood and retrieved a photograph from the bookcase.
It showed a small neighborhood grocery store.
A younger Antonio Moretti stood beside a delivery truck.
Near him was a dark-haired woman holding the hand of a girl who couldn't have been older than twelve.
“That was Sofia Bellini,” Margaret said.
“Vanessa's mother.”
Teresa smiled sadly.
“I remember that day.”
Luca studied the photograph.
“Dad was helping Sofia?”
“Her store flooded,” Margaret explained. “Antonio spent two weeks repairing the delivery truck and the refrigeration equipment.”
She touched the photograph.
“He wouldn't take a penny.”
Luca looked at young Vanessa.
In the picture, she was smiling.
Really smiling.
For a moment, I had trouble reconciling that child with the woman who had humiliated me.
Margaret continued.
“Vanessa worked in that store every summer. She used to carry groceries upstairs for neighbors who couldn't manage the steps.”
“What happened to her?” I asked quietly.
Margaret shook her head.
“I wish I knew.”
Then she looked toward Teresa.
“That's why I was so glad when you said she would arrange the shopping. I thought the old market was starting up again.”
Luca leaned forward.
“What do you mean, starting up again?”
Margaret frowned.
“Didn't Vanessa tell you?”
“Tell us what?”
Margaret looked from Luca to Teresa.
Then toward the groceries on her counter.
“The Bellini market hasn't been open for weeks.”
My stomach tightened.
“Since when?”
“August. I walk past it when I go to church.”
Luca slowly set down the photograph.
Margaret continued.
“The lights are off. The window signs are gone. There's hardly anything left on the shelves.”
Teresa looked confused.
“But Vanessa told me the store was delivering groceries every week.”
Margaret shook her head.
“No, honey.”
She touched the yellow carnations.
“Whatever happened to your money, those groceries weren't coming from that market.”
Luca stood.
“Daniel can verify the invoices. I want to see the store myself.”
Margaret caught his sleeve before he could move.
“One more thing, Luca.”
He turned.
She pointed to the photograph.
“Your father helped keep that store open once.”
May you like
Her eyes filled.
“And the last time I saw Vanessa, she told me she would do anything to keep it open again.”
