Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Was Supposed To Be Gone
Antonio Moretti had spent five years believing his wife died with the same accident that took his son.
He had never questioned it.
Not because he trusted everyone.
Antonio trusted almost nobody.
But because the pain was too heavy to carry another question.
The night his son died had already destroyed him.
The thought that someone could have lied about it was something he had never allowed himself to imagine.
Until now.
He stood in his office, staring at the frozen security footage.
The person outside his son’s bedroom door.
The person who had entered the room on the night everything changed.
The person who had hidden the truth from him.
Antonio looked at the screen again.
The image was blurry.
But the shape was familiar.
The posture.
The way the person stood.
The way they held their hands.
He knew that person.
He had known them for years.
"Play it again."
The security guard immediately obeyed.
The footage restarted.
The hallway appeared.
Empty.
Silent.
Then the figure walked into view.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The person stopped outside the bedroom.
Looked around.
Then entered.
Antonio watched every second.
His jaw tightened.
Because the person was wearing something he remembered.
A dark coat.
A silver bracelet.
A bracelet he had bought himself.
For his wife.
The room became silent.
Elena looked at him.
"Sir..."
Antonio didn't answer.
He couldn't.
Because the person in the video was his wife.
Sophia Moretti.
The woman everyone told him he lost five years ago.
The woman whose funeral he attended.
The woman whose photograph he kept hidden inside his desk.
The woman who was supposed to be gone.
Antonio stepped closer to the screen.
"No."
His voice was barely a whisper.
The guard lowered his head.
"Boss, we checked the records."
Antonio looked at him.
"What records?"
"The hospital report."
A pause.
"Her death certificate."
Antonio's eyes narrowed.
"And?"
The guard hesitated.
"Someone changed the files."
The words hit harder than any weapon.
Antonio slowly turned.
"Who?"
"We don't know yet."
Antonio looked back at the footage.
His wife standing outside their son's room.
Alive.
Five years ago.
On the night everyone said she died.
He felt something inside him break.
Not sadness.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Betrayal.
He turned toward Elena.
"You knew."
Elena shook her head immediately.
"No."
"Don't lie to me."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I didn't know she was alive."
Antonio walked closer.
"Then explain why you looked afraid when you saw her."
Elena couldn't answer.
That silence was enough.
Antonio had built his entire life around reading people.
And Elena was hiding something.
"What did my wife tell you?"
The maid looked away.
Antonio's voice became colder.
"What did Sophia tell you?"
Elena finally spoke.
"She came to me."
Antonio stopped.
"When?"
"Three months before the accident."
The room went quiet.
Antonio stared at her.
"Three months?"
Elena nodded slowly.
"She asked me to watch over your son."
Antonio felt his chest tighten.
"Why?"
"Because she believed someone wanted to hurt him."
Antonio's expression changed.
"Who?"
Elena looked toward Lily.
The child was sitting quietly on the sofa.
Holding the toy stethoscope.
Then Elena whispered:
"She never told me the name."
Antonio turned away.
He walked to the window.
His mind was moving faster than ever.
For five years, he believed he lost his family.
But now he realized something worse.
Maybe he had been separated from them.
Maybe someone had taken them away.
He looked at the city lights outside.
"Why didn't she come to me?"
Elena's eyes lowered.
"Because she thought you would be watched."
Antonio turned.
"Watched by who?"
Elena hesitated.
Then she reached into her pocket.
She pulled out an old envelope.
Antonio immediately recognized the handwriting.
Sophia's handwriting.
His breathing changed.
"Where did you get that?"
"She gave it to me."
"When?"
"The night before she disappeared."
Antonio took the envelope.
His fingers shook slightly.
Inside was a single photograph.
His son.
Standing in the backyard.
Smiling.
But behind him was someone else.
A man standing near the house.
Antonio looked closer.
The image was old.
The quality was poor.
But the face was clear enough.
His eyes widened.
Because he knew that man too.
Someone he trusted.
Someone who had helped him after Sophia’s death.
Someone who had comforted him.
Someone who had cried beside him.
Antonio whispered:
"Richard."
Elena nodded.
"Your closest friend."
Antonio stared at the photograph.
Richard.
His oldest ally.
The person who handled business when Antonio couldn't.
The person who told him:
"Your family is gone. You need to accept it."
Antonio remembered those words.
Now they sounded different.
Not like comfort.
Like control.
His phone suddenly rang.
Everyone looked.
Unknown number.
Antonio answered.
Silence.
Then a voice.
A woman's voice.
A voice he had not heard in five years.
"Antonio."
His entire body froze.
Elena covered her mouth.
Because she recognized it too.
Antonio couldn't speak.
The voice continued.
"I know you opened the room."
His hand tightened around the phone.
"Sophia?"
A pause.
Then a quiet breath.
"Don't trust anyone inside that house."
Antonio looked around.
At the walls.
At the people around him.
At Elena.
At Lily.
The voice became weaker.
"They know you found the message."
Antonio stood completely still.
"What message?"
No answer.
Only static.
Then Sophia whispered:
"The one your son left before they took him."
Antonio's heart stopped.
"They took him?"
The call began breaking apart.
"Sophia, where are you?"
A few seconds of silence.
Then:
"Antonio..."
Her voice trembled.
"The person who destroyed our family is standing next to you right now."
The call ended.
Antonio slowly lowered the phone.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Then the office door opened.
A familiar voice came from the hallway.
"Antonio?"
He turned.
Richard Moretti’s closest friend stood there.
Holding an old file.
And behind him was a woman Antonio had buried five years ago.
May you like
Alive.
Walking toward him.
