Chapter 8: The Child Who Wasn't There
Vittorio took the birth certificate upstairs.
He placed it on his desk.
Lucy sat across from him.
She swung her small legs beneath the chair.
“Daddy?””
“Yes?””
“Am I in trouble?””
Vittorio's chest tightened.
“No.””
“Did I do something bad?””
“No, sweetheart.””
“Then why is everyone crying?””
Vittorio looked at Bianca.
She stood by the window.
“I don't know,” he said.
It was the first honest answer he could give her.
Daniel entered with two security officers.
“Sir.””
Vittorio looked up.
“Close the doors.””
Daniel nodded.
“And nobody leaves this house.””
“Understood.””
Vittorio picked up the birth certificate again.
“Find Sofia Bellini.””
Daniel looked at the name.
“Who is she?””
“Matteo's former partner.””
“Alive?””
“I don't know.””
“I'll find out.””
“Quietly.””
Daniel nodded.
He turned to leave.
“Daniel.””
“Yes?””
“Find every hospital record connected to Matteo from the night of the explosion.””
Daniel paused.
“You think he survived.””
“I know he did.””
“And Lucy?””
Vittorio looked at the child.
“I don't know what she is yet.””
Lucy heard him.
She lowered her eyes.
Vittorio immediately regretted the words.
He walked over and knelt.
“Lucy.””
She didn't look up.
“Am I not your daughter anymore?””
Vittorio felt something break inside him.
He took her hands.
“You will always be my daughter.””
“But that paper says I'm not.””
“The paper doesn't decide that.””
“Who does?””
Vittorio looked at her.
“I do.””
Lucy finally smiled.
A tiny smile.
Then she asked, “Did Mommy lie?””
Vittorio looked toward Bianca.
“Yes.””
Bianca closed her eyes.
Lucy whispered, “Why?””
Bianca walked over.
She knelt beside them.
“Because I was scared.””
“Of Daddy?””
“No.””
“Of Uncle Matteo?””
Bianca swallowed.
“Yes.””
Lucy frowned.
“But Uncle Matteo is nice.””
Vittorio and Bianca both froze.
“What did you say?””
Lucy looked confused.
“He's nice.””
“You've met him?””
Lucy nodded.
“When?””
She pointed toward the hallway.
“Yesterday.””
Vittorio stood so quickly the chair fell backward.
“Where?””
“In the garden.””
Bianca stared.
“Lucy, that's impossible.””
“He gave me the red ribbon.””
Vittorio looked at the ribbon still tied around Lucy's wrist.
“Did he tell you his name?””
She nodded.
“He said I could call him Uncle Matt.””
Bianca began crying.
Vittorio felt the room close around him.
“Did he tell you where he lived?””
Lucy shook her head.
“He said he lived where the birds couldn't see him.””
Vittorio looked at Daniel.
“Search the garden.””
Daniel immediately left.
Bianca whispered, “He came for her.””
Vittorio turned.
“You knew he was watching her.””
“I suspected.””
“You suspected?””
“I saw him once.””
“When?””
“Three months ago.””
Vittorio stared at her.
“Three months?””
“He stood outside the school.””
“And you said nothing.””
“I thought he would leave.””
“He didn't.””
“No.””
“He came into our house.””
Bianca nodded.
“He wanted you to know he could.””
Vittorio's phone rang.
Daniel.
He answered.
“What?””
“Sir, we found something.””
“Where?””
“Under the old oak tree.””
Vittorio looked toward the garden.
“I'm coming.””
He and Bianca followed.
The oak tree stood at the edge of the property, its branches stretching over the stone wall.
Daniel was kneeling beside the roots.
A small metal box sat in the soil.
Vittorio approached.
“Did you open it?””
“No.””
“Why?””
Daniel pointed.
There was a photograph taped to the lid.
Vittorio recognized Matteo immediately.
Beside him stood Sofia.
And between them was a baby.
A baby with golden hair.
Vittorio stared.
“That can't be Lucy.””
Bianca whispered, “It is.””
Vittorio looked closer.
The baby's face was unmistakable.
Same eyes.
Same tiny birthmark beside her left ear.
Same golden hair.
“How old?””
Bianca wiped her tears.
“Six months.””
Vittorio looked at the photograph again.
The date was printed on the back.
Twelve years ago.
His breathing became shallow.
Lucy was five.
But the photograph showed her twelve years earlier.
Daniel whispered, “Sir…”
Vittorio didn't answer.
He opened the box.
Inside were documents.
A passport.
A hospital bracelet.
A tiny silver necklace.
And a handwritten letter.
He unfolded it.
The handwriting was Matteo's.
*Vittorio,*
*If you're reading this, then she survived.*
Vittorio's eyes moved down the page.
*You will believe Lucy is the child in this photograph. She is not.*
He stopped.
Bianca covered her mouth.
Vittorio continued.
*The girl in the photograph was my daughter. Her name was Elena.*
He looked toward the house.
Lucy was standing at the upstairs window.
*Elena died the night of the explosion.*
Vittorio's hand began to shake.
*The child you have raised is not Elena. She is not Sofia's daughter.*
Vittorio looked at Bianca.
She whispered, “No…”
He read the final lines.
*Someone replaced her.*
Below that was one sentence.
*And Bianca knows who did it.*
Vittorio slowly turned.
Bianca was staring at the letter.
Her face had lost all color.
“You knew.””
She shook her head.
“Not everything.””
“You knew Lucy wasn't Elena.””
“I knew she wasn't Matteo's daughter.””
“You raised her anyway.””
“I loved her.””
“That isn't an answer.””
Bianca's voice broke.
“They gave her to me.””
“Who?””
She looked at the black metal box.
“The people who had your father.””
Vittorio's eyes narrowed.
“My father was dead.””
“Not when they took the child.””
The garden became silent.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Who had him?””
Bianca looked toward the stone wall.
Then whispered a name.
“Your father's old organization.””
Vittorio stared at her.
“My father didn't have an organization.””
Bianca looked at him with tears running down her face.
“Yes, he did.””
She pointed toward the house.
“And your brother didn't build the tunnel.””
Vittorio looked toward the estate.
“Then who did?””
Bianca answered.
“Your father.””
A sound came from behind them.
Lucy screaming.
“Daddy!””
Vittorio turned.
A black car was speeding toward the front gate.
Security guards were running after it.
Lucy was no longer at the upstairs window.
Vittorio sprinted toward the house.
The front door stood open.
A trail of small muddy footprints crossed the marble floor.
They ended at the staircase.
Then disappeared.
On the bottom step lay Lucy's pink blanket.
Pinned to it was a note.
*ONE CHILD WAS STOLEN TWELVE YEARS AGO.*
*ANOTHER WAS STOLEN FIVE MINUTES AGO.*
May you like
And beneath it:
*NOW CHOOSE WHICH DAUGHTER YOU WANT BACK.*
