Chapter 6 - A Mother Twice Born
I didn't scream.
That surprised everyone.
Especially Luca.
I simply stared at Leo's empty crib and became someone else.
Or perhaps someone old returned.
“Security footage.”
Luca's men moved.
“Road cameras.”
Another order.
“Airports.”
Another.
I grabbed Luca's wrist.
“He won't use an airport.”
Luca stared at me.
“How do you know?”
I didn't.
Except I did.
Memory wasn't returning like a movie.
It returned as instinct.
Fear.
Smell.
Sound.
“Salvatore used trains.”
The horn from my memory.
The warehouse.
Rail lines.
Luca immediately redirected his men.
Within forty minutes they identified an abandoned cold-storage facility beside freight tracks in Chester.
The same property had once belonged to a shell company connected to Salvatore.
Luca wanted me to stay behind.
“No.”
“Sofia—”
“Don't.”
His jaw tightened.
“He took our son.”
“Yes.”
“I lost eleven months with Leo because that man erased me.”
“I know.”
“He does not get another hour.”
Something passed through Luca's eyes.
Recognition.
Maybe that was how Sofia used to look at him.
We drove through rain.
Of course it rained.
Some storms apparently waited for families.
Police contacts were quietly alerted, but Luca reached the warehouse first.
I remained in the armored SUV until I heard something through the cracked window.
A baby.
Crying.
Every rational thought disappeared.
I ran.
Luca shouted my name.
Inside, everything smelled familiar.
Oil.
Dust.
Disinfectant.
My knees weakened.
I had been here.
A room appeared on my left.
Memory slammed into me.
I was tied to a chair.
Leo screaming somewhere beyond the wall.
Salvatore standing over me.
“You should have stayed ignorant.”
Then another flash.
I had bitten a man's hand.
Run.
Reached Leo.
Kissed him.
“Mommy's coming back.”
Men tore him from me.
Present collided with past.
I stumbled.
Then Leo cried again.
“Mama!”
I ran toward the sound.
Salvatore stood inside the loading bay holding my son.
He was older than Luca, silver-haired, elegantly dressed.
He looked less like a monster than Greg did during a bad dinner rush.
That made me hate him more.
“Sofia.”
“My name is Avery.”
He smiled.
“No. Avery is what remained after we removed Sofia.”
Luca entered behind me.
Salvatore's expression changed.
“You were always sentimental, Luca.”
“Put my son down.”
“Your son?”
Salvatore looked at Leo.
“This child destroyed everything.”
Leo reached for me.
“Mama!”
I stepped forward.
Salvatore backed away.
“You don't remember giving birth to him.”
“No.”
“You don't remember feeding him.”
“Pieces.”
“You don't remember marrying Luca.”
“Not enough.”
He smiled cruelly.
“Then what exactly are you fighting for?”
I looked at Leo.
And suddenly the answer was easy.
“I don't need memory to know he's mine.”
Salvatore's smile disappeared.
“My brain forgot him.”
I took another step.
“My body didn't.”
Another.
“My heart didn't.”
Leo sobbed.
“And he didn't.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Salvatore looked toward the loading doors.
That second was enough.
Leo bit his hand.
Hard.
Salvatore cursed.
The baby slipped.
I lunged.
So did Luca.
I caught Leo before he hit the concrete.
Luca hit Salvatore.
His men rushed in.
I curled around my son.
Leo screamed against my chest.
“Mommy's here.”
The words came automatically.
And suddenly—
NICU lights.
Tiny fingers.
Three a.m.
Warm milk.
A first bath.
Luca sleeping beside an incubator.
Leo coming home.
My son against my bare chest.
His heartbeat.
His smell.
His first smile.
Memory exploded through me.
I screamed.
Luca turned from Salvatore.
“Sofia!”
I held Leo.
“I remember him.”
Everything stopped.
“I remember my baby.”
Luca crossed the room.
I was crying too hard to see.
“He had hiccups every night when I was pregnant.”
Luca fell to his knees.
“You used to complain.”
“I lied.”
I laughed through sobs.
“I loved them.”
Leo touched my tears.
I kissed every finger.
“I remember forty-one seconds.”
Luca covered his face.
“I remember you telling me to breathe.”
His shoulders shook.
“And I remember what you said when he finally cried.”
Luca looked up.
I whispered it with him.
May you like
“That's our boy.”
For the first time in eleven months, mother, father and son remembered the same moment.
