Chapter 5 - The Photograph.
Alessandro reached the hospital for the second time that day with three different explanations competing in his mind.
None of them made him less angry.
The photograph lay inside a clear plastic sleeve on the nurses' station.
It showed Emma stepping off a city bus two blocks from the Moretti mansion.
The image had been taken from inside a parked vehicle.
Emma's face was visible in profile.
Her oversized uniform was impossible to mistake.
On the reverse side, written in block letters, were five words.
STOP ASKING ABOUT THE MONEY.
Marco studied the photograph under the fluorescent lights.
"Printed recently."
"How recently?"
"Could be this morning."
Sophia watched from her hospital bed while Emma slept curled in a chair beside her.
The child had finally surrendered to exhaustion after insisting she was not tired for nearly an hour.
Alessandro stood near the window.
"Who knew Emma would come to the mansion?"
Sophia shook her head.
"Nobody."
"She told Mrs. Turner?"
"She left a note."
"Did the note say where she was going?"
"I don't know."
Marco opened his tablet.
"Mrs. Turner says the note said, I went to help Mom."
Alessandro looked at Sophia.
"Could Sebastian have guessed?"
"Maybe."
Sophia rubbed her palms against the blanket.
"Emma knows where I work."
"But he had a photographer waiting near the bus stop?"
Marco shook his head.
"That means someone was already watching the apartment."
Sophia's face drained of color.
"Why?"
Alessandro had no answer he was willing to give her yet.
He looked at the sleeping child.
Emma's red hair elastic had come loose completely.
One braid had unraveled across her cheek.
"You and Emma aren't going home tonight."
Sophia immediately stiffened.
"We can't afford a hotel."
"I didn't ask you to."
"Mr. Moretti—"
"Someone photographed your daughter."
His voice remained controlled.
"Until I know why, I want you both somewhere secure."
Sophia stared at him.
"Your mansion?"
"When the hospital releases you."
She almost laughed from disbelief.
"I clean your mansion."
"Not this week."
"I couldn't live there."
"I'm not asking you to live there forever."
Sophia looked toward Emma.
"She'll think this is some kind of adventure."
"Then let her."
Sophia's expression softened for one second before fear returned.
"What if Mr. Vale comes back?"
"He won't get near her."
"You don't know that."
The challenge surprised both of them.
Sophia looked down.
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
She looked up again.
Alessandro spoke more quietly.
"You're right."
Sophia blinked.
"I don't know that yet."
He glanced toward Marco.
"But I know I'll make it very difficult."
Marco's phone vibrated.
He stepped into the hall to answer.
Sophia watched Alessandro in silence.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because this happened in my house."
"That doesn't make Emma your responsibility."
"No."
Alessandro looked at the sleeping child again.
"But someone used my name to frighten you."
His mouth tightened.
"That makes the truth my responsibility."
Sophia seemed to study him for the first time as a man rather than a reputation.
"Emma wasn't wrong."
"About what?"
"I was afraid of you."
Alessandro did not pretend that surprised him.
"Are you now?"
Sophia thought before answering.
"A little."
"Fair."
A small sound escaped her that might have been a laugh.
Then Marco returned.
"We found Celia's car."
Alessandro turned.
"Where?"
"Parking garage on West Forty-Eighth."
"And Celia?"
"Gone."
"Cameras?"
"Show her leaving in a taxi with a suitcase."
Sophia whispered.
"She ran."
Marco nodded.
"Looks that way."
"Where's Vale?"
"His phone is off."
Alessandro's expression hardened.
Marco continued.
"But we got one useful thing from Celia's car."
He held up a photograph on his tablet.
It showed a banker box in the trunk.
Inside the box were dozens of envelopes identical to the one used for Sophia's pay.
"Police recovered the box before the garage released the car."
Alessandro enlarged the image.
Several envelopes bore handwritten initials.
One showed the letters A.F.
Anthony Ferraro.
Rosa's old bookkeeper.
"Ferraro is connected," Alessandro said.
Marco nodded.
"I already started searching."
"Anything?"
"Maybe."
Marco pulled up an old address record.
"Anthony Ferraro moved to New Jersey after leaving the foundation."
"Still alive?"
"Apparently."
"Find him."
"Already did."
Alessandro looked at him.
"Where?"
"A retirement community outside Montclair."
Sophia pushed herself higher against the pillow.
"You think he knows about the ledger?"
Alessandro looked at the photograph again.
"I think Sebastian is afraid he does."
Emma stirred in the chair.
Her eyes opened slowly.
"Are we going home?"
Sophia touched her hair.
"Not tonight."
Emma blinked.
"Where are we going?"
Alessandro answered.
"My house."
Emma sat upright.
"Do I have to clean?"
For the first time all day, Marco laughed out loud.
Alessandro shook his head.
"Absolutely not."
Emma considered that.
"Can I finish the window later?"
"We'll negotiate."
Her expression became suspicious.
"Adults say negotiate when they mean no."
Sophia covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Alessandro almost smiled too.
Then Marco's tablet chimed with an incoming message.
He read it once.
His humor vanished.
"Boss."
"What?"
"Someone accessed Sophia's employee file from inside the mansion five minutes ago."
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
"Who?"
Marco turned the screen toward him.
The login belonged to Rosa Bellini.
That evening, Sophia woke to find Emma sitting beside the hospital window with the coloring book open on her knees.
Emma had drawn three people under a crooked umbrella.
"Who's that?"
Sophia asked.
"You, me, and Mr. Moretti."
Sophia looked at the tall black figure on the page.
"Why is he with us?"
Emma shrugged.
"Because he has a car."
Sophia laughed until she coughed.
When the coughing stopped, Emma became serious.
"Are you mad I went to work?"
Sophia took her hand.
"I'm scared you thought you had to."
Emma looked at their joined fingers.
"I heard you tell Mrs. Turner we were one bad week from trouble."
Sophia closed her eyes.
She had forgotten Emma was in the hallway during that conversation.
Children heard sentences adults released carelessly into rooms.
Then they built rules from them.
"You are not responsible for my paycheck."
Emma whispered.
"But I'm responsible for you."
Sophia's heart broke at the certainty in her voice.
"No, baby."
She pulled Emma closer.
"I am responsible for you."
Emma woke from her chair when a dinner cart rattled past the hospital room.
She immediately asked whether Sophia had eaten.
Sophia said she was not hungry.
Emma frowned and moved the tray closer anyway.
"You tell me I have to eat when I'm sick."
Sophia looked helplessly at Alessandro.
He raised both hands.
"I'm staying out of this."
Emma pointed to the soup.
Sophia took three spoonfuls.
Only then did Emma relax.
Alessandro watched the reversal of roles with discomfort.
May you like
Children were supposed to borrow safety from adults.
Emma had been lending hers out all day.
