Chapter 10 - The Mother Who Never Left
The message remained on Dante’s phone.
A location.
A name.
A single word.
Mother.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Because after ten years of believing someone was gone, seeing proof that they were alive felt more terrifying than death.
I looked at the screen.
Then at Dante.
"Where is she?"
Dante didn’t answer.
His eyes stayed locked on the location.
"Dante."
He finally looked at me.
And I saw something I had never seen before.
Hope.
Real hope.
But it was mixed with fear.
"She’s close."
My heart tightened.
"Then take me there."
Alessandro stepped forward.
"No."
I turned.
"No?"
His expression was full of panic.
"You don’t understand."
I almost laughed.
"That’s the only thing I’ve heard my entire life."
He looked hurt.
Good.
Because I was hurt too.
"You all keep saying I don’t understand."
I pointed at the room.
"The secrets."
"The lies."
"The people disappearing."
"My entire identity being fake."
My voice broke.
"And now you want to tell me I don’t understand again?"
Nobody spoke.
Because there was nothing to say.
Dante walked toward me.
"Elena."
I looked at him.
"What?"
His voice was quiet.
"I’ll take you there."
My father immediately looked at him.
"Dante."
He ignored him.
"She deserves to know."
Those words surprised me.
Because for the first time, someone wasn’t trying to protect me from the truth.
They were accepting that I had a right to it.
Marco watched from the corner.
Silent.
Too silent.
I noticed.
"You knew."
Everyone looked at him.
Marco’s expression didn’t change.
"You knew where she was."
Dante turned toward him.
Marco didn’t answer.
That was enough.
Dante stepped closer.
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"You sent the message."
"No."
Marco smiled faintly.
"She did."
My heart stopped.
"She?"
Marco looked at me.
"Your mother."
The room changed.
Because that meant something impossible.
My mother wasn’t just alive.
She was watching.
She knew.
She had known I existed.
And she never came back.
The anger returned.
The pain.
The questions.
"Why?"
Nobody answered.
Not even Marco.
Dante picked up his coat.
"We leave now."
The journey was silent.
Nobody talked.
Not because there was nothing to say.
Because there was too much.
I sat beside the window, watching the city disappear.
Ten years ago, I thought my life ended.
Now I was driving toward the woman who started it.
The woman who gave me life.
The woman who left me.
Dante sat across from me.
For once, he wasn’t acting like a mafia boss.
He was just Dante.
The man who had lost my family.
The man who had protected me.
The man I still didn’t know how to forgive.
"You knew my mother."
It wasn’t a question.
He looked at me.
"Yes."
"Did you love her?"
The question surprised him.
Maybe because nobody had ever asked.
His eyes moved away.
"Yes."
The answer was honest.
And it hurt.
"Then why did you let her disappear?"
Dante took a breath.
"Because she asked me to."
I frowned.
"What?"
"Isabella knew Victor would use me to find her."
"Why?"
"Because Victor knew I cared about her."
The words hung between us.
I looked outside.
My mother.
Dante.
My father.
Everyone connected.
Everyone hiding pieces of the same story.
"And me?"
Dante looked at me.
"What about you?"
"Why did she leave me?"
His expression changed.
Pain.
"I don’t know."
I looked at him.
"You don’t know?"
"No."
His voice lowered.
"But I know one thing."
"What?"
"She never stopped looking for you."
I wanted to believe him.
I hated that I wanted to.
Because believing him meant accepting that maybe my mother didn’t abandon me.
Maybe she lost me too.
After an hour, we arrived.
The location was an old house outside the city.
Small.
Quiet.
Nothing like the world I had imagined.
No guards.
No security.
No signs of someone hiding.
Dante got out first.
He checked the area.
Then nodded.
"Clear."
I stepped out.
My hands were shaking.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I was close.
Too close.
The front door was unlocked.
That bothered Dante.
He immediately noticed.
"Stay behind me."
I ignored him.
"Elena."
"No."
I looked at the house.
"I’ve spent my entire life waiting."
My voice softened.
"I’m not waiting anymore."
Dante looked at me.
Then stepped aside.
We entered together.
The house smelled familiar.
Not because I remembered it.
Because something about it felt like home.
There were photographs everywhere.
A woman.
A young girl.
A family.
My family.
I walked closer.
My mother was smiling.
Actually smiling.
Not the fake smiles from old memories.
A real one.
The kind I never got to see.
On the table was a letter.
My name was written on it.
Elena.
My hands froze.
Dante stood behind me.
"She left it for you."
I touched the envelope.
Ten years.
Ten years of wondering.
Ten years of questions.
I opened it.
The handwriting was delicate.
My daughter,
If you are reading this, then I know Dante kept his promise.
I stopped.
Dante looked away.
The letter continued.
I know you will hate me.
You have every right to.
My eyes filled.
But I need you to know something.
I never left because I wanted to.
I left because someone wanted to take you from me.
I looked at Dante.
He read my expression.
The letter continued.
Victor wasn’t the only enemy.
The person closest to you was the one who betrayed us.
My breathing stopped.
Not again.
Another betrayal.
Another secret.
The next line was written darker.
Like my mother had pressed the pen harder.
I trusted the wrong person.
Someone who knew everything.
Someone who knew where you were.
Someone who helped them find you.
The room became silent.
Dante looked at me.
"Keep reading."
I turned the page.
The final sentence was alone.
Written in a different handwriting.
Not my mother’s.
A man’s.
A handwriting I recognized.
Because I had seen it before.
On the documents.
On the files.
On the old letters.
My father’s handwriting.
The message said:
Elena, if you found this letter, it means your mother failed to tell you the truth about the night I died.
I stopped breathing.
Because beneath it was one final sentence.
May you like
The one that changed everything.
The one that revealed who had really opened the door for the killer...
