Chapter 5 - The Secret Hidden In The Moretti Family
The bedroom door moved slowly.
Not pushed.
Not forced.
Opened.
My entire body froze.
I was standing in the hallway outside Mia’s room, staring at the small gap between the door and the frame.
The message was still open on my phone.
“She was never supposed to find him.”
Someone had taken a picture of my daughter.
Someone had been close enough to watch her.
Close enough to know where she slept.
“Mia?”
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
No answer.
I reached for the handle.
The door opened completely.
And Mia was sitting on her bed.
Awake.
Holding her stuffed rabbit.
But she wasn’t alone.
A woman was sitting beside her.
An older woman.
With tears in her eyes.
I stopped breathing.
“Who are you?”
The woman looked at me.
For a moment, she didn’t speak.
Then she whispered:
“I knew she would look like this.”
My heart started racing.
I moved toward Mia.
“Mia, come to Mommy.”
My daughter immediately climbed down from the bed and ran to me.
I wrapped my arms around her.
The woman didn’t move.
She just watched.
Like she was seeing something she had waited years to see.
“Who are you?” I asked again.
Her hands trembled.
“My name is Sofia.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But the way she looked at Mia meant everything.
“How did you get in here?”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Because this house has never been as secure as people think.”
I held Mia tighter.
“I’m calling security.”
Sofia shook her head.
“If I wanted to hurt her, you wouldn’t have heard me enter.”
That answer terrified me more.
Because it was true.
I had heard nothing.
Not a footstep.
Not a door.
Nothing.
Then Sofia looked at Mia.
“She sings the same way.”
I froze.
“What?”
“The same little song.”
My heart dropped.
“You know that song?”
Sofia’s eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
She looked down.
“Because I taught it to Lucia.”
The name hit me.
Lucia.
Lorenzo’s missing daughter.
I didn’t say anything.
I couldn’t.
Sofia slowly stood.
“She was three years old when she disappeared.”
I looked at Mia.
Then back at her.
“Who are you?”
Her voice broke.
“I was her nanny.”
The room became silent.
“You worked for Lorenzo?”
She nodded.
“I loved that little girl like she was my own.”
“Then why did nobody mention you?”
Sofia looked away.
“Because I was told never to return.”
“By who?”
She didn’t answer.
And that was the first moment I realized something.
Everyone in this house was afraid of the same person.
But nobody wanted to say the name.
Before I could ask more, footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Sofia’s expression changed instantly.
“He cannot see me here.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the door.
“Lorenzo.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
Her eyes moved to Mia.
“Because if he knows I found her, everything changes.”
I looked at my daughter.
“What does that mean?”
But before Sofia could answer, the door opened.
Lorenzo stood there.
His face changed the second he saw Sofia.
The room became completely still.
Nobody spoke.
Then Lorenzo whispered:
“You.”
Sofia looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
For the first time since I met Lorenzo Moretti, I saw something I never expected.
Fear.
Not anger.
Not power.
Fear.
“Where have you been?”
Sofia lowered her eyes.
“Trying to survive.”
Lorenzo stepped inside.
His gaze moved between Sofia and Mia.
Then something changed.
A memory.
A realization.
“What did you tell her?”
Sofia shook her head.
“Nothing.”
Lorenzo looked at Mia.
My daughter was watching him carefully.
Then she walked toward him.
Everyone reacted.
“Mia, wait.”
But she didn’t stop.
She reached Lorenzo.
And held his hand.
The same way she did before.
Lorenzo looked down.
And his expression broke.
Because this time…
he remembered.
“I heard her.”
His voice was quiet.
“When I was trapped in that darkness…”
He looked at Mia.
“I heard this song.”
Sofia covered her mouth.
“No…”
Lorenzo looked at her.
“You knew.”
Sofia cried silently.
“I didn’t know she would find you.”
The room became colder.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
I stepped forward.
“No.”
My voice became stronger.
“I’m done.”
Everyone looked at me.
“My daughter is involved in something she doesn’t understand.”
I pointed toward Lorenzo.
“You woke up because of her.”
Then toward Sofia.
“You know something about her.”
Then toward Isabella, who had appeared silently in the hallway.
“And everyone here keeps hiding the truth.”
Nobody spoke.
“So someone is going to explain.”
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then Lorenzo sat down.
And for the first time, the most feared man in New York looked like someone carrying unbearable regret.
“Lucia was taken because of me.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“What?”
He looked at Mia.
“Years ago, someone inside my organization betrayed me.”
“Who?”
“I never found out.”
Sofia looked at him.
“That’s not true.”
Lorenzo turned.
Everyone froze.
Sofia continued.
“You found out.”
His face changed.
“You knew the truth.”
Sofia nodded.
“I saw the evidence.”
The room went silent.
“What evidence?” I asked.
Sofia reached into her bag.
She pulled out an old photograph.
A little girl.
Three years old.
Holding a stuffed rabbit.
My hands became cold.
Because the rabbit looked familiar.
Too familiar.
Sofia placed the picture on the table.
“Lucia had this before she disappeared.”
I stared.
The same gray rabbit.
The same one Mia carried every day.
I looked at my daughter.
Then at Lorenzo.
“No.”
My voice shook.
“This is impossible.”
Nobody moved.
Then Isabella quietly spoke.
“There is something you don’t know, Clara.”
I turned.
She looked at Mia.
“When Lucia disappeared, she wasn’t the only child missing.”
My heart stopped.
“What are you saying?”
Isabella’s face became pale.
“There was another child.”
The room went silent.
“A child nobody knew existed.”
Lorenzo stood suddenly.
“Isabella.”
But she continued.
“A child who was hidden because someone wanted Lorenzo to believe his daughter was gone forever.”
I looked at Mia.
No.
I didn’t want to hear this.
But I needed to.
“Who was that child?”
Isabella looked directly at me.
And whispered:
“Her twin.”
The world seemed to stop.
Mia.
A twin?
Impossible.
Lorenzo stared at Isabella.
“You’re lying.”
But Isabella shook her head.
“I wish I was.”
Then she reached into her pocket.
She pulled out a small envelope.
Old.
Worn.
With a name written on the front.
Not Lorenzo.
Not Lucia.
Mine.
Clara Bennett.
I stared at it.
My hands started shaking.
“How did you get that?”
Isabella didn’t answer.
Because Lorenzo was already looking at the envelope.
And his face changed.
He recognized it.
“That was supposed to be destroyed.”
I looked at him.
“Destroyed?”
Nobody moved.
Then the envelope began to open.
And inside was a photograph taken twenty years earlier.
A photograph of a baby.
With a note written on the back.
Three words.
May you like
“Return her home.”
And underneath the note was the name of the person who had hidden my daughter’s past… Victor Vale.
