Chapter 3 - The Door Beneath the Bakery
Sophia didn't remember deciding to return to Chicago.
She remembered telling Luca she was going.
She remembered him saying, "Then I'm coming."
She remembered arguing for approximately twelve seconds before realizing there was no universe in which Luca Moretti intended to let her walk into a trap alone.
Sixteen hours later, Sophia stood outside Bennett's Bakery.
The front window was broken.
Police tape crossed the entrance.
Claire was alive.
That was the first thing Sophia learned.
Her manager had been locked in the pantry and found by a delivery driver.
Nothing had been stolen from the register.
Nothing obvious, anyway.
The old brick oven had been moved six feet across the kitchen.
Underneath it was a steel hatch Sophia had never seen.
"Twenty-three years," she whispered.
Luca stood behind her.
"What?"
"I grew up here."
She pointed toward the flour-covered prep table.
"I did homework there. Mom taught me frosting roses there. I slept upstairs when Dad forgot to pick me up."
She looked at the hatch.
"And that was underneath us the entire time."
Gabriel crouched beside the lock.
"317."
Sophia removed the silver key.
It fit.
The lock clicked.
Luca caught her wrist.
"I go first."
"I have the key."
"I have a gun."
Sophia looked at him.
"Fair."
Luca opened the hatch.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
He switched on his phone light.
Sophia followed him.
Gabriel came behind them.
The underground room was small.
Concrete walls.
Metal shelves.
A desk.
Dust covered almost everything.
Except one object.
A cassette recorder.
Sophia stared at it.
Someone had recently wiped the dust away.
Luca noticed too.
"We're not first."
Gabriel checked the room.
"Nobody here."
Sophia approached the recorder.
A cassette was already inside.
A handwritten label read:
SOPHIA.
Her hands began trembling.
Luca stood beside her.
"You don't have to listen now."
"Yes, I do."
She pressed PLAY.
Static.
Then a woman's voice.
Sophia stopped breathing.
"My darling Sophie."
Her mother's voice.
Older than Sophia remembered.
But unmistakable.
"If you're hearing this, then I failed to keep this away from you."
Sophia covered her mouth.
Luca lowered his eyes.
"I need you to understand something. Luca Moretti is not responsible for what happened to me. If anything, he is the reason I survived as long as I did."
Sophia looked at him.
Luca didn't move.
"Vittorio De Santis killed Carlo Moretti because Carlo discovered he was using Moretti shipping routes for trafficking. I photographed the meeting. I photographed the murder. Vittorio knows."
Gabriel whispered, "The photographs."
The tape continued.
"I made three copies. Gabriel has one key. Luca knows about another. The third..."
Static swallowed several words.
Sophia leaned closer.
"...Arthur."
Her stomach dropped.
"My husband found out what I had done. He promised to protect Sophia. But Arthur was afraid. Vittorio offered him money and safety."
Sophia closed her eyes.
"No."
"Arthur betrayed me."
Luca's hand curled into a fist.
"He told Vittorio where I would be that night."
Sophia's knees weakened.
Luca caught her.
This time she didn't pull away.
The recording continued.
"If Arthur tells you I died in an accident, don't believe him."
Sophia began crying.
Silently.
No dramatic sob.
Just tears she couldn't stop.
Her father had lied every year of her life.
Birthdays.
Christmases.
Graduations.
Every time Sophia had cried over her mother, Arthur had held her knowing exactly what he'd done.
Then Margaret said something strange.
"But Arthur didn't kill me."
Sophia's head lifted.
The tape crackled.
"He couldn't."
Sophia stared at the recorder.
"What?"
"Because the woman who died in my car wasn't me."
Silence.
Sophia stopped breathing.
Luca stared at the machine.
Gabriel stumbled backward.
The recording continued.
"I survived."
Sophia whispered, "Mom?"
"If you've found this recording, there is a chance I'm still alive."
The tape clicked.
Stopped.
Sophia hit PLAY.
Nothing.
She ejected it.
Turned it over.
Side B.
Empty.
"No."
She slammed it back in.
"Come on."
Nothing.
"Mom!"
Luca gently took her hand away.
"Sophia."
"She survived."
"Yes."
"My mother might be alive."
"Yes."
"Did you know?"
"No."
She searched his face.
He looked as shocked as she felt.
Gabriel sat heavily in the chair.
"I saw the car."
Sophia turned.
"What?"
"After it went over the cliff. I saw the wreckage."
"Did you see her body?"
"No."
"Then why did you think she died?"
"Arthur identified her."
Sophia laughed bitterly.
"Of course he did."
She searched the desk.
Drawers.
Files.
Nothing.
Then Luca noticed scratches on the floor.
"The desk."
Together they moved it.
Beneath one leg was a small envelope taped to the concrete.
Inside was a photograph.
Margaret Bennett.
Alive.
Standing beside a newspaper.
The visible date was eight years after her supposed death.
Three years ago.
Sophia sat down.
Her mother had survived for at least eight years.
On the back:
I stayed away because Vittorio promised Sophia would die if I returned.
Sophia pressed the photograph to her chest.
Luca crouched in front of her.
For a man his size, the movement was strangely gentle.
"We'll find her."
Sophia looked at him.
"You can't promise that."
"No."
"Then don't."
He nodded.
"I'll try."
That she believed.
Their eyes held.
Something had changed between them.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Something more fragile.
Trust.
Gabriel suddenly spoke.
"There's another message."
He pointed beneath the photograph.
Tiny handwriting.
L.M. knows where the second copy is.
Sophia turned slowly toward Luca.
"You know?"
His face changed.
"I knew where it was."
"Where?"
"My father's grave."
They flew back to Italy the following morning.
Nobody mentioned the abandoned wedding.
Sophia expected Luca to.
He didn't.
He gave her space.
At the estate, a guest suite had been prepared.
Sophia found fresh clothes in her size, toiletries, coffee, and—somehow—a professional stand mixer.
She stared at it.
Elena appeared in the doorway.
"He panicked."
"What?"
"My brother has no idea what women want."
"So he bought me a mixer?"
"He asked Marco what bakers need."
Sophia laughed for the first time in two days.
Downstairs, Luca heard it.
And smiled.
That afternoon they drove to the Moretti family chapel.
Carlo Moretti's tomb stood beneath an old stone angel.
Luca removed a panel behind the headstone.
Empty.
His face darkened.
"It's gone."
"Who knew?"
"Me. My father. Margaret."
"And Vittorio?"
"No."
Gabriel examined the compartment.
"Recently opened."
Sophia's phone rang.
Arthur.
She stared at his name.
Luca said nothing.
She answered.
"Dad."
"Sophie."
She hadn't heard fear in her father's voice since she was a child.
"Where are you?"
"Where's Mom?"
Silence.
"Sophia—"
"Where is she?"
"I can explain."
"Eleven years, Dad."
"I was protecting you."
"You betrayed her."
His breathing changed.
"Who told you?"
"She did."
Silence.
"What?"
"I heard her recording."
Arthur whispered something.
Then:
"You need to leave Luca immediately."
"No."
"You don't understand."
"Then explain."
"Vittorio doesn't want the photographs anymore."
Sophia looked at Luca.
"What does he want?"
Arthur's voice broke.
"You."
"Why?"
"Because Margaret didn't only witness Carlo Moretti's murder."
Sophia's grip tightened.
"What else?"
"She recorded a ledger."
"What ledger?"
"The names of judges, police officers, businessmen. Everyone Vittorio owned."
"Why does that involve me?"
"Because your mother encrypted it."
"With what?"
Arthur started crying.
Sophia had never heard her father cry.
"With your childhood."
"What does that mean?"
"Recipes. Birthday dates. Places you went. Things only you would recognize."
Sophia went cold.
"So I'm the key."
"Yes."
A sound came through the phone.
A door.
Arthur stopped breathing.
"Dad?"
No answer.
"Dad?"
He whispered:
"He found me."
A crash.
Sophia stood.
"Dad!"
Arthur screamed.
Then another voice came onto the line.
Calm.
Older.
Italian.
"Miss Bennett."
Luca ripped the phone from Sophia's hand.
"Vittorio."
A quiet laugh.
"Little Luca."
"Touch Arthur and I'll kill you."
"You should thank me. Arthur has caused both our families enough trouble."
"Where is Margaret?"
Silence.
Sophia grabbed the phone.
"Where is my mother?"
Vittorio breathed softly.
Then said:
"Ask your future husband."
The line disconnected.
Sophia looked at Luca.
His face had gone completely still.
"What did he mean?"
"I don't know."
"Luca."
"I don't."
Then the chapel doors slammed shut.
The lights went out.
Elena screamed outside.
A projector suddenly turned on across the dark chapel.
A video appeared on the stone wall.
A woman sat tied to a chair.
Older.
Thin.
But Sophia knew her instantly.
"Mom."
Margaret lifted her face toward the camera.
Alive.
Someone stepped behind her.
Placed a hand on her shoulder.
May you like
And whispered:
"Tell your daughter what Luca Moretti did the night you disappeared."
