Chapter 2 - THE LIST IN THE BLUE NOTEBOOK
Luca didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
"Grace, take my daughter upstairs."
His eyes never left his fiancée’s pale face.
I immediately wrapped my arms around Lucy, holding my black cardigan securely over the back of her pale-blue satin dress.
She buried her face in my shoulder, her small frame shaking with quiet sobs.
"Come on, sweetheart," I whispered, guiding her away from the long dining table.
Twenty-eight wealthy guests sat frozen beneath the crystal chandeliers.
Nobody touched their champagne.
Nobody spoke.
Vanessa took a desperate step forward.
"Luca, please. The child is confused. I meant a list of chores—"
"Stop talking."
The two words echoed through the massive dining room.
Luca stood completely still, his tailored black suit blending into the shadows of the room, but the sheer force of his presence seemed to suck the air from the space.
"You made a twelve-year-old girl catalog her own mistakes?"
Vanessa’s lips trembled.
"I was trying to prepare her for the real world! You baby her, Luca. She’s too sensitive. I was just trying to build character."
"By collecting evidence to use against her?"
As I guided Lucy toward the grand staircase, I couldn't help but look back.
Mrs. Callahan was still standing, her emergency pouch forgotten in her hand.
"Mr. Moretti," she said quietly. "If you want me to show you the email she sent to the parents' board..."
"I will see it," Luca said. "Right after Vanessa leaves."
Vanessa’s head snapped up.
"Leaves? Luca, this is our engagement dinner!"
"Was."
He didn't shout.
He didn't throw anything.
He just looked at her with a cold, terrifying emptiness.
"Get out of my house."
Vanessa let out a choked sob.
"You’re throwing me out over a misunderstanding? Over a stained dress?"
"I am throwing you out because you terrorized my daughter in her own home, sent an intimate photograph to strangers, and plotted to humiliate her before she even sat down at this table."
He stepped closer to her.
"If you are not gone in two minutes, my security will physically remove you."
I didn't wait to see what happened next.
I hurried Lucy up the sweeping mahogany staircase.
Her breathing was ragged.
Her hands clutched my wrists so tightly her knuckles were white.
"Miss Grace?" she whispered as we reached the second floor.
"I've got you, honey. We're going straight to your bathroom. Nobody is going to see you."
We entered her bedroom—a soft pink room filled with books and a massive canopy bed.
I closed the heavy oak door, shutting out the faint sounds of the dining room below.
I drew a warm bath, handed Lucy the emergency pouch Mrs. Callahan had given me, and gently explained how to use the supplies inside.
I spoke softly, stripping away the mystery and the shame, treating it exactly like what it was: a normal, healthy part of growing up.
By the time she emerged in her oversized flannel pajamas, the color had returned to her cheeks.
She climbed onto her bed, pulling her knees to her chest.
"Did Vanessa really leave?"
I sat on the edge of her mattress.
"Your father asked her to."
Lucy looked down at her hands.
"She's going to be so mad at me."
"She has no right to be mad at you, Lucy. What she did was cruel."
The little girl sniffled.
"She said if I didn't write down all the bad things I did, she would tell Daddy that I broke my mom's music box."
My heart squeezed.
Caroline's music box. The beautiful wooden one that sat on Luca's desk in the study.
"You broke it?" I asked gently.
Lucy shook her head violently.
"No! I just wound it up to listen to the song. But when Vanessa came in, it stopped working. She said I ruined it. She said Daddy would be devastated because it was the last thing my mom touched."
I felt a sudden surge of anger.
Vanessa had deliberately broken it to blackmail a child.
"Lucy, where is this list?"
She hesitated, her eyes darting toward her white wooden desk.
"In my bottom drawer."
I stood up and walked over to the desk.
I pulled open the bottom drawer.
Tucked beneath a pile of school sweaters was a small, spiral-bound blue notebook.
I picked it up.
It felt heavy in my hands.
"Miss Grace?"
I turned around.
"Please don't read the last page," Lucy whispered, tears filling her eyes again. "I didn't want to write it. But she made me."
Before I could ask what she meant, the bedroom door opened.
Luca stood in the doorway.
His jacket was gone.
His tie was loosened.
He looked exhausted, but the moment he saw Lucy safe in her pajamas, his shoulders dropped an inch.
He walked to the bed and sat down, pulling his daughter into his arms.
"I am so sorry, baby," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I am so incredibly sorry I didn't see what was happening."
"Is she gone?" Lucy asked against his shirt.
"She is gone. She will never step foot in this house again."
He held her until her breathing steadied.
Then, he looked up at me.
His eyes dropped to the blue notebook in my hand.
"Is that it?"
I swallowed hard.
"Yes, sir."
He held out his hand.
I walked over and placed it in his palm.
He opened the cover.
I watched his eyes scan the first page.
His jaw tightened.
His knuckles turned white.
I talked too loudly at breakfast.
I didn't finish my carrots.
I mentioned my mom when Vanessa said not to.
He flipped the page.
Then another.
"Daddy," Lucy whimpered. "Please."
Luca stopped.
He looked at the last page.
He didn't speak for a long time.
When he finally looked up, his eyes were wet.
"Lucy," he said, his voice breaking. "Where did you get this watch?"
My heart pounded.
I stepped closer.
Taped to the final page of the notebook was a silver wristwatch with a cracked glass face.
The hands were frozen at 4:15.
It wasn't just any watch.
It was a woman's watch, delicate and tarnished.
Lucy shrank back against her pillows.
"Vanessa found it in my backpack last week," she cried. "She said I stole it."
Luca went completely still.
"She said if I didn't write down that I was a thief, she would call the police."
"Lucy," Luca whispered, his voice trembling in a way I had never heard before. "You didn't steal this."
"I didn't! I found it in Vanessa's guest room closet when I was looking for my missing sweater!"
Luca stared at the cracked watch.
"Mr. Moretti?" I asked quietly. "What's wrong?"
He slowly looked up at me.
The sheer devastation in his eyes made my breath catch.
"This is Caroline's watch," he whispered. "She was wearing it the day she died in the car accident. The police told me it was lost in the wreckage."
The silence in the room was deafening.
May you like
If the watch was lost in the wreckage four years ago...
Why was it hidden in Vanessa's closet?
