Chapter 7: The Girl in the Photograph
Vittorio turned toward Lucy.
She was standing barefoot beside the sofa, clutching the edge of her blanket with both hands.
Bianca had gone completely still.
“No,” Vittorio whispered.
On the television, Matteo watched him.
“You heard me.””
Vittorio stepped closer to the screen.
“Lucy is five.””
“I know.””
“She was born five years ago.””
“Yes.””
“My brother died twelve years ago.””
Matteo's expression did not change.
“That's why you never understood.””
Vittorio looked at Bianca.
“Explain.””
She couldn't speak.
“Bianca.””
Her lips trembled.
“I wanted to tell you.””
“You've said that.””
“I was afraid.””
“You've said that too.””
He pointed at Lucy.
“Tell me who my daughter is.””
Bianca looked at the little girl.
Lucy looked back at her.
Then Bianca whispered, “She's Matteo's.””
The room seemed to tilt.
Vittorio stared at his wife.
“What did you say?””
Bianca covered her mouth.
Vittorio shook his head.
“No.””
“I’m sorry.””
“No.””
“She isn't your biological daughter.””
Lucy looked between them.
“Daddy?””
Vittorio turned toward her.
His face softened instantly.
He crossed the room and knelt.
“Come here.””
Lucy ran into his arms.
He held her tightly.
The television remained on behind them.
Matteo spoke again.
“You loved her before you knew the truth. That is what matters.””
Vittorio glared at the screen.
“Don't tell me what matters.””
Matteo nodded.
“Fair enough.””
“Where is she from?””
“From the night I disappeared.””
Vittorio looked at Bianca.
She was crying silently.
“Tell me.””
Bianca sank into the chair.
“When Matteo survived the explosion, he was badly injured. He couldn't walk. He couldn't speak. He couldn't go to a hospital without your father's men finding him.””
“So?””
“So I helped him escape.””
Vittorio's eyes narrowed.
“You helped him.””
“Yes.””
“You told me you had never seen him after the explosion.””
“I lied.””
“For twelve years.””
“Yes.””
“And Lucy?””
Bianca closed her eyes.
“She was six months old.””
Vittorio froze.
“Six months?””
“Matteo had a daughter.””
The words landed differently this time.
Not like a revelation.
Like a wound reopening.
“Where was she?””
“Her mother was dead.””
“Who was her mother?””
Bianca looked at him.
“Her name was Sofia.””
Vittorio remembered the name.
A woman Matteo had once mentioned.
A photographer.
Someone who had disappeared from his brother's life before the explosion.
“Why did Matteo give her to you?””
“He didn't.””
Vittorio stared.
Bianca's voice became smaller.
“I took her.””
Silence.
“You took a baby?””
“I thought I was saving her.””
“From whom?””
“Your father.””
Vittorio stood.
“Stop using my father as an excuse.””
Bianca flinched.
“He was going to use the child.””
“For what?””
“I didn't know.””
“You knew enough to steal her.””
“I knew your father wanted something Matteo had.””
“What?””
Bianca shook her head.
“I don't know.””
On the television, Matteo interrupted.
“You do know.””
Bianca looked up.
Matteo continued.
“You saw the box.””
Vittorio turned toward her.
“What box?””
Bianca said nothing.
“Bianca.””
She looked at the television.
“Matteo…”
“What box?””
She whispered, “The black box.””
Vittorio's stomach tightened.
He remembered the old photograph.
The one Matteo had left behind.
The photograph of their father standing beside a black metal case.
“Where is it?””
Bianca shook her head.
“I don't have it.””
“Then who does?””
“I don't know.””
Matteo smiled faintly.
“Vittorio does.””
Vittorio frowned.
“I don't.””
“You do.””
“Where?””
Matteo looked directly at Lucy.
“She knows.””
Vittorio glanced at his daughter.
Lucy was crying now.
“Lucy?””
The little girl wiped her cheeks.
“Daddy, I don't know anything.””
Matteo's voice softened.
“You remember the song, little bird.””
Lucy looked at the television.
“The song?””
“Yes.””
The old lullaby.
The one their father had sung.
Vittorio's eyes narrowed.
“What does the song have to do with the box?””
Matteo said nothing.
The screen went black.
Vittorio rushed toward it.
“Matteo!””
Nothing.
The television showed only his reflection.
Bianca stood.
“Vittorio…”
He turned.
“You're going to tell me everything.””
“I will.””
“Now.””
Bianca nodded.
Then the front door slammed downstairs.
Daniel immediately drew his weapon.
Someone shouted from the foyer.
“Mr. Romano!””
Vittorio recognized the voice.
His attorney.
He ran downstairs.
The lawyer stood inside the entrance, holding a brown envelope.
His tie was crooked.
His face was pale.
“I tried calling.””
“What happened?””
“The custody hearing was moved.””
“When?””
“An hour ago.””
Vittorio stared.
“Who moved it?””
“The judge received an emergency petition.””
“From Bianca?””
The lawyer shook his head.
“No.””
“Then who?””
He handed over the envelope.
Vittorio opened it.
Inside was a court order.
The name of the petitioner was not Bianca.
Not Matteo.
Not anyone he recognized.
It simply said:
*STATE OF CALIFORNIA VS. VITTORIO ROMANO*
Vittorio looked at his attorney.
“This isn't California.””
“I know.””
“Then why is a California court involved?””
The lawyer swallowed.
“Because the original custody case wasn't filed here.””
Vittorio's eyes narrowed.
“Where was it filed?””
The lawyer hesitated.
“London.””
Vittorio went still.
“Why London?””
“Because the person claiming custody says Lucy was born there.””
Vittorio looked toward Bianca.
She was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Her face had gone white.
The lawyer continued.
“And there's a birth certificate.””
Vittorio's heart hammered.
“For Lucy?””
“Yes.””
“Who's listed as the father?””
The lawyer opened the envelope again.
He pulled out a photocopy.
Vittorio looked down.
The father's name was printed clearly.
*MATTEO ROMANO.*
But beneath it was another line.
*Mother: Sofia Bellini.*
Vittorio's fingers began to shake.
He looked at Lucy.
Then at Bianca.
Then back at the paper.
“Where is the original?””
The lawyer's voice dropped.
“That's the problem.””
“What?””
“It was issued twelve years ago.””
Vittorio stared.
“Twelve years?””
“Yes.””
The lawyer looked toward Lucy.
“And according to the document…”
He stopped.
“Say it.””
“The child named on the certificate was born twelve years ago.””
Vittorio's eyes moved slowly toward Lucy.
The little girl was five.
The certificate said twelve.
And suddenly he understood why Matteo had never called Lucy his daughter.
Because perhaps Lucy wasn't Lucy.
May you like
Perhaps she was the missing child.
And someone had spent five years making Vittorio believe she was his.
