Chapter 8 - THE LETTER MARIA NEVER SENT|
Emma Lawson had waited twenty-seven years to learn why her birth mother gave her away.
Now someone was breaking into government offices to prevent her from finding out.
And the man suspected of arranging it was the same man who'd threatened Nico Santoro's mother nearly three decades earlier.
Detective Bennett moved quickly.
She arranged protective measures for Emma and Rosa.
Nico instructed his security personnel to cooperate fully with the police.
And Antonio insisted that everyone stay at the mansion until the immediate threat was resolved.
I spent most of that night beside Emma.
She sat on the edge of the guest bed holding the little silver rose bracelet.
Her fingers traced each bead.
"Do you think she made this?"
I smiled sadly.
"Rosa says your mother bought it for your first birthday."
Emma looked down.
"I've spent my whole life imagining what she looked like."
I sat beside her.
"Now you have photographs."
She nodded.
"But I wanted to hear her voice."
My heart ached.
I understood that feeling.
My own father was alive, but after losing his job, he'd become so withdrawn that some days I barely recognized him.
There were many ways to lose someone without a funeral.
Emma opened the memory box again.
She lifted the photographs one by one.
Then she stopped.
"Sophie."
I looked over.
"What?"
"There's something behind this picture."
She carefully removed the cardboard backing.
A folded piece of paper slipped out.
We stared at it.
The envelope was thin and yellowed.
Across the front, in faded blue ink, someone had written:
"MY DEAREST ELENA."
Emma stopped breathing.
I reached for her hand.
"Do you want to open it?"
She nodded.
But her fingers were trembling too badly.
"Will you?"
I hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
"Please."
I carefully unfolded the paper.
Inside was a letter written in elegant handwriting.
I began reading softly.
"My darling daughter."
Emma covered her mouth.
"If you are old enough to read this, then I hope you have grown into a happy young woman."
Tears began sliding down her cheeks.
"I hope someone has held you when you were frightened."
"I hope someone has made you birthday cakes."
"And I hope you know that nothing in this world could ever make me stop loving you."
I paused.
Emma squeezed my hand.
"Keep reading."
I swallowed.
"I am writing this because I may not be able to explain why we were separated."
"There are people who believe money matters more than human lives."
"I discovered something I was never supposed to see."
"And now I am afraid."
Emma began sobbing quietly.
I continued.
"But you must never believe that you were unwanted."
"You were the best thing that ever happened to me."
"Every morning, I woke up grateful that I was your mother."
"And every night, I prayed you would have a future brighter than the one I could give you."
I wiped my eyes.
At the bottom, Maria had written one final paragraph.
"If you ever meet Rosa Alvarez again, trust her."
"She has the kindest heart I have ever known."
"And if Eleanor Santoro is still alive, tell her I never stopped being grateful."
"She gave us hope when nobody else would."
I stopped.
For several seconds, Emma didn't move.
Then she took the letter.
She pressed it against her chest.
"She loved me."
I nodded.
"Very much."
Emma began crying harder.
I held her until she could breathe evenly again.
Then she looked at the final page.
"There's something on the back."
I turned it over.
A series of numbers had been written in tiny handwriting.
Below them were three words.
"THE ORIGINAL ACCOUNT."
I frowned.
"That sounds like a bank account."
Emma looked confused.
"Why would Mom write that on my letter?"
I thought about Maria's work as a bookkeeper.
The stolen charity funds.
And the ledgers in the cellar.
"Maybe she wanted you to have something that could prove what happened."
Emma looked frightened.
"Does that mean Charles is looking for this?"
"Possibly."
I immediately called Nico.
He arrived a few minutes later.
When I showed him the letter, his expression softened.
"Emma, I'm sorry."
She looked up.
"For what?"
"For everything my family failed to prevent."
Emma shook her head.
"You didn't know."
Nico sat opposite her.
"My mother tried to help yours."
"I know."
He swallowed.
"I wish she'd succeeded."
Emma looked at the old photograph of Eleanor.
"Maybe she did."
Nico frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Emma touched the letter.
"I survived."
The room fell silent.
Then Nico smiled sadly.
"Yes."
He nodded.
"You did."
The next morning, Nico's attorney reviewed the numbers with investigators.
They matched an old financial account linked to the Eleanor Santoro Children's Foundation.
But the bank had merged with another institution years earlier.
Retrieving records would require formal legal procedures.
Detective Bennett arranged the necessary requests.
Meanwhile, the documents recovered from the cottage were being analyzed.
Several entries showed funds diverted from children's rehabilitation programs into companies controlled by Charles Ashford.
The amounts were substantial.
And the transactions appeared to have continued for years after Eleanor's death.
Nico stood beside the study window when he learned the extent of the suspected theft.
"My mother raised money for sick children."
His voice was quiet.
"And Charles stole it."
I looked at him.
"She tried to stop him."
He nodded.
"Yes."
Then he turned toward me.
"Do you know what hurts most?"
I shook my head.
"She spent her final weeks trying to protect people."
His eyes filled.
"And I grew up believing she died without saying goodbye."
I approached him.
"Nico."
He looked down.
"I never got to tell her I loved her that morning."
My chest tightened.
"She knew."
He shook his head.
"You can't know that."
I looked toward Eleanor's photograph.
"A woman who risked so much to protect her son knew he loved her."
Nico's expression crumpled.
For a moment, he looked nothing like the feared mafia boss everyone described.
He looked like a boy who'd been missing his mother for twenty-nine years.
I placed a hand on his arm.
"You don't have to be strong every second."
He stared at me.
Then slowly nodded.
"Thank you."
We stood together in silence.
Later that afternoon, Detective Bennett returned with unexpected news.
Michael Trent had been located.
He'd contacted an attorney and offered to cooperate with investigators.
Nico listened while she explained.
Michael claimed Charles had threatened his family.
He admitted helping Victoria manipulate the household arrangements.
He also admitted arranging access for Dr. Vale and the private care facility.
But he insisted that he'd never known Antonio would be removed against his will.
Nico's expression hardened.
"That's difficult to believe."
Detective Bennett nodded.
"We're checking his account against the evidence."
I thought about Michael.
The man who'd smiled while collecting our weekly schedules.
The man who'd brought Rosa groceries.
And the man whose actions had nearly cost her everything.
"What does he want?" I asked.
Detective Bennett looked toward me.
"He says Charles is planning to leave the country."
Nico stood.
"When?"
"Within forty-eight hours."
"Where?"
"Michael claims he doesn't know."
She paused.
"But he gave us an address."
Nico frowned.
"What address?"
"A warehouse on the waterfront."
His expression changed.
I noticed immediately.
"Do you know it?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Nico looked toward his mother's portrait.
Then answered.
"Because that's where my father and Charles started their business."
Detective Bennett opened another folder.
"Michael says Charles has kept a private archive there for decades."
Nico's jaw tightened.
"Then that's where we need to look."
The detective shook her head.
"Investigators will handle it."
Nico nodded reluctantly.
But before anyone could speak again, Emma appeared in the study doorway.
She was holding Maria's letter.
Her face was pale.
"Sophie."
I turned.
"What happened?"
She held up her phone.
"Someone just called me."
My stomach dropped.
"Who?"
Emma swallowed.
"A man."
"What did he say?"
She looked toward Nico.
"He said he knew my mother."
The room fell silent.
May you like
Then she whispered the words that made Rosa cry when we told her.
"He said Maria Marquez might still be alive."
