Chapter 2 - The Grave That Hadn't Been Dug Yet
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Luca stared at Vanessa as if he were looking at a complete stranger.
“My mother is dead?” he finally asked.
Antonio lowered his head.
“I don't know.”
Luca grabbed his father's coat.
“You just told me she was buried thirteen years ago!”
“I told you what I was made to believe.”
“Then explain it!”
Antonio looked toward the office door.
“Not here. We have to leave.”
Luca released him.
“You walk into my home after thirteen years, tell me my brother might be dead, tell me my mother might be buried in an unidentified grave, and now you want me to leave?”
“I want you alive.”
The words silenced him.
Antonio reached into his leather bag and removed another photograph.
It showed a young woman standing outside a hospital, holding a little boy's hand.
Luca recognized the woman immediately.
His mother, Isabella.
But the little boy wasn't Michael.
It was Luca.
On the back, someone had written:
October 3. The last day the family was whole.
Luca swallowed.
“Where was this taken?”
“St. Mary's Hospital. The night Michael was born.”
“Michael was born in October?”
Antonio nodded.
“Your mother gave birth to him thirteen years ago. But the hospital records say he died three days later.”
Luca stared at him.
“Why did everyone tell me he ran away?”
“Because somebody needed you to stop asking questions.”
Luca turned toward Vanessa.
“How long have you known about Michael?”
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
“I met your family after everything happened.”
“That's not an answer.”
“I swear I didn't know your brother was alive.”
Antonio laughed bitterly.
“You always were a talented liar.”
Vanessa's expression hardened.
“You have no right to accuse me.”
“I have every right. I watched you carry a message to the man who replaced me in that coffin.”
Luca stepped between them.
“Enough. Both of you.”
He turned to Emily.
“Show me where you found that envelope.”
Emily hesitated.
“Mr. Moretti, there's something else.”
“What?”
“The photograph wasn't alone.”
She reached into her apron and pulled out a small brass key.
“It was hidden inside the wall behind the old wine cellar. I found it when I was cleaning.”
Antonio immediately grabbed her wrist.
“Where did you get that?”
Emily recoiled.
“Behind a loose brick.”
Antonio stared at the key.
Then he whispered something that made Luca's stomach tighten.
“Your mother had one just like it.”
Before Luca could ask another question, the mansion's security alarm began screaming.
A guard rushed into the office.
“Boss! We have a problem.”
“What?”
“The east gate just opened.”
“Who opened it?”
The guard swallowed.
“Your mother's car.”
Luca went still.
His mother had supposedly been dead for thirteen years.
Yet the old black Mercedes assigned to Isabella Moretti was now parked outside the mansion.
Luca ran toward the entrance.
Antonio followed, despite the pain in his legs.
Emily hurried behind them.
Vanessa remained in the office.
At the front entrance, Luca found the driver's door open.
A white envelope rested on the passenger seat.
His name was written across it in familiar handwriting.
He recognized the handwriting from birthday cards, childhood letters, and the notes his mother used to leave beside his breakfast.
His hands began shaking.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a single sentence.
If Antonio is home, do not let him find Michael.
Luca looked toward his father.
Antonio had stopped walking.
“Dad?”
The old man stared at the letter.
Then he whispered:
“She knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That Michael is alive.”
A second security guard approached.
“Boss, there's someone on the phone. They say it's an emergency.”
“Who?”
The guard handed him the phone.
A woman's voice came through.
“Luca?”
He almost dropped the device.
“Mom?”
There was a long silence.
Then the woman spoke.
“Listen carefully. You have less than an hour.”
“Where are you?”
“Don't trust Vanessa.”
“I already know that.”
“And don't trust your father.”
Luca looked at Antonio.
“What?”
His mother began crying.
“Your father didn't come home to save you, sweetheart.”
Luca's blood turned cold.
“Then why did he come?”
Before she could answer, a loud gunshot exploded somewhere outside the mansion.
The phone went dead.
Luca turned.
A security guard was lying beside the driveway.
Another was dragging himself behind a stone pillar.
And Antonio was staring at the upper balcony.
A woman stood there.
Wearing Isabella's old white dress.
Luca looked up.
“Mom?”
The woman raised one hand.
Then she disappeared behind the curtains.
Luca sprinted toward the staircase.
But when he reached the balcony, the room was empty.
There was only a small photograph on the floor.
He picked it up.
It showed Isabella holding a newborn baby.
On the back, a message had been written in red ink.
One son was supposed to die. The other was supposed to forget.
Luca turned toward the hallway.
Antonio was standing there.
And behind him, Emily was holding something that made her face completely white.
It was a hospital bracelet.
May you like
The name printed on it was Michael Moretti.
But the date of birth was tomorrow.
