Chapter 5 - THE GOODBYE LETTER SHE HID
Luca didn't open the envelope immediately.
He turned it over in his hands.
Then looked at his mother.
“Why would you write me a goodbye letter when you were only moving outside Chicago?”
Teresa lowered her eyes.
“Because I didn't think I'd be coming back.”
The silence that followed felt heavier than anything Vanessa had said that evening.
Luca sat beside her.
“Mom, may I read it?”
She nodded.
He unfolded the letter.
I looked away, wanting to give them privacy.
But Teresa caught my hand.
“Stay, Emily.”
So I stayed.
Luca began reading.
The letter was short.
Teresa thanked him for being a good son.
She told him she'd always been proud of the man he'd become.
She apologized for asking him to spend so many Sunday mornings listening to stories he'd probably heard before.
Then came the words that made his voice break.
I won't call every Sunday anymore. I know you have your own family to think about now.
Luca stopped.
His eyes moved down the page.
Please don't worry about me. I have lived a good life in this house. Your father made sure of that.
I hope your marriage is full of the happiness we had.
And if someday you want to tell me about your life, I will always be glad to hear from you.
Love, Mom.
Luca lowered the letter.
For a long moment, he couldn't speak.
Teresa reached toward him.
“Sweetheart, I didn't mean to upset you.”
He shook his head.
Then carefully folded the paper.
“You were saying goodbye while I was downstairs planning a wedding.”
She looked embarrassed.
“I thought that was what you needed.”
Luca put his arms around her.
“No, Mom.”
His voice broke.
“I needed to know you were all right.”
Teresa cried against his shoulder.
I stood beside the fireplace, wishing I could go back three weeks and put that telephone into her hands.
But guilt doesn't change what happened.
Only what we do afterward.
Eventually, Luca pulled back.
“Mom, when did you write this?”
“This afternoon.”
“Before the haircut?”
“After.”
She touched the uneven silver hair above her shoulders.
“I thought perhaps it would be easier to leave if I looked different.”
Luca stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because everything I loved about this house reminded me of your father.”
She glanced toward the suitcase.
“And Vanessa said starting again would hurt less if I stopped carrying my old life everywhere.”
Luca looked at Antonio's photograph.
“And did you believe her?”
Teresa considered the question.
“No.”
Her answer surprised us both.
“Not really.”
She brushed away a tear.
“But I thought perhaps I was the one being selfish.”
That was the cruelty I couldn't stop thinking about.
Vanessa hadn't simply told Teresa what to do.
She'd made a kind woman believe that loving her family meant disappearing from it.
Luca laid the letter beside the gold bracelet.
Then he asked something I hadn't expected.
“Emily, did Vanessa ever tell you why she wanted my mother to leave?”
I hesitated.
“Not directly, sir.”
“Tell me what she said.”
I remembered a conversation from the previous month.
Vanessa had been reviewing wedding flowers in the dining room.
I'd mentioned that Teresa wanted to keep Antonio's photograph on the mantel during the celebration.
Vanessa had stared at me.
“Does nobody in this house understand that Luca is getting married to me?”
I'd apologized.
Then she'd said, “I'm tired of feeling like a guest in a dead man's home.”
At the time, I thought she meant she wanted different decorations.
Now the words felt different.
I repeated them to Luca.
He listened carefully.
Then looked around the sitting room.
Antonio's photographs.
His favorite reading chair.
The old clock on the mantel.
Nearly every corner carried a memory.
“I knew Vanessa wanted changes,” Luca said.
He rubbed his forehead.
“I told her we could make the house ours, too.”
Teresa looked at him.
“You should have your own happiness, sweetheart.”
“I know.”
He looked back at her.
“But I should have asked what those changes meant to you.”
Then he turned toward Daniel.
“Is there anything else in that folder?”
Daniel opened the pale-blue folder again.
“There are several pages concerning Monday.”
He separated them from the wedding plans.
One sheet was a typed description of a property called Hawthorn House.
It stood on several acres near Lake Forest.
The owner was Edward Hale.
According to the description, he was a retired teacher who'd lost his wife four years earlier.
His home had a guest suite on the ground floor.
The property sounded pleasant.
Quiet gardens.
A sunny breakfast room.
A small library.
There was nothing obviously frightening about it.
That bothered me.
Because a beautiful place could still become a prison if someone believed she wasn't allowed to leave.
Daniel turned another page.
“Here's the proposed visit.”
Luca read it silently.
Then frowned.
“What?”
Daniel pointed toward the bottom.
The arrangement was described as voluntary.
It required Teresa's approval.
And it explicitly stated that she could return home whenever she wished.
Luca looked at his mother.
“Mom, did Vanessa show you this?”
Teresa nodded.
“Part of it.”
“Did you sign anything?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“Mrs. Moretti?”
She looked ashamed.
“I thought I was signing to say I'd meet Mr. Hale.”
Luca studied the paper.
Near the bottom was Teresa's signature.
Small.
Carefully written.
Daniel leaned closer.
“The form says this is a trial visit.”
Luca nodded slowly.
Then he looked toward the top of the page.
There was a number printed beside the proposed length of stay.
Six weeks.
Not permanently.
Not a second marriage.
Not a promise that she'd never return.
Luca turned toward his mother.
“Mom, this arrangement says you would only stay six weeks.”
Teresa stared.
Then her expression collapsed.
“But Vanessa said the six weeks was just something they wrote down to keep you from worrying.”
Luca stopped moving.
May you like
Teresa's voice trembled.
“She said when those six weeks were over, there wouldn't be a room for me here anymore.”
