Chapter 7 - The Trial
The trial lasted six months.
Victor's lawyers fought everything.
Daniel testified.
My mother's recordings were admitted.
My father's documents were authenticated.
The research files exposed years of fraud, financial crimes, medical manipulation, and conspiracy.
But the most powerful witness wasn't me.
It was Alina.
She told the court what had happened.
How she had been manipulated.
How she had believed Marco was dangerous.
How she had been convinced Sophia was sick.
Then she turned toward me.
“I was wrong.”
Her voice shook.
“But I was trying to protect my daughter.”
I reached for her hand.
She took it.
When Victor was finally sentenced, he looked at us without emotion.
“You think this ends with me.”
I said nothing.
He smiled.
“You have no idea what your father discovered.”
I felt a chill.
“What?”
Victor leaned toward the microphone.
“Ask who funded the research before I did.”
The judge ordered him removed.
The statement stayed in my head.
Who funded it?
That question could have destroyed the peace we had just begun building.
But I made a choice.
I would not let the past consume my daughter again.
So I closed the files.
For now.
Sophia started school.
Alina moved into my home.
Not as my wife.
Not yet.
Just as Sophia's mother.
We learned how to be parents together.
It was awkward.
Beautiful.
Sometimes painful.
Sophia had nightmares.
Sometimes she asked why she had lost so many years.
We never lied.
“We didn't know where you were.”
She would nod.
Then climb into my bed.
“Can I stay?”
“Always.”
Alina would sometimes stand in the doorway.
Watching.
One night, Sophia fell asleep between us.
Alina whispered:
“You're a good father.”
“I wasn't.”
“You are now.”
I looked at her.
“I missed six years.”
“So did I.”
We sat in silence.
Then she touched my hand.
“I still love you.”
My heart stopped.
“I never stopped.”
She looked at me.
“But love isn't enough.”
“I know.”
“We need trust.”
“We'll build it.”
Slowly.
Honestly.
Without secrets.
For the first time in years, I believed her.
Then my phone rang.
Elena.
“Marco.”
“What?”
“You need to see this.”
She sent a photograph.
A man standing outside a laboratory in Switzerland.
The caption read:
Project Vitelli — Phase Two.
I stared at the screen.
The research hadn't ended.
Someone else had continued it.
I looked at Sophia sleeping peacefully.
I made a decision.
I deleted the photograph.
May you like
Some wars aren't worth bringing home.
At least not yet.
