Chapter 10 - THE MOTHER WHO WAITED TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS
I met Isabella on a rainy afternoon in Salerno.
She stood outside a small yellow house overlooking the sea.
Her hands trembled.
So did mine.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then she whispered, “Sophia?”
I nodded.
Her eyes filled.
She stepped forward.
Stopped.
Then asked, “May I hug you?”
I began crying.
“Yes.”
She wrapped her arms around me.
And for the first time in my life, I felt what it was like to be held by my mother.
We cried for a long time.
Then she invited me inside.
The house smelled of lemon soap and fresh bread.
A violin rested beside the window.
On the mantel stood a photograph of a baby.
Me.
I stared.
“You kept it.”
Isabella nodded.
“Every day.”
We sat at the kitchen table.
She told me what happened.
After fleeing Renato's men, she had been injured in an accident while traveling under a false identity.
She survived but spent months recovering.
By the time she was strong enough to search for me, Giulia had disappeared.
“I tried,” she whispered.
“I went to the old house. I contacted people I trusted.”
Her voice broke.
“But every time I asked questions, someone warned me to stop.”
I swallowed.
“Why didn't you go to the police?”
“I was afraid Renato had people everywhere.”
She looked down.
“I know fear isn't an excuse for all the years I lost.”
I reached across the table.
“You didn't know where I was.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
We sat quietly.
Then I asked the question I'd carried my whole life.
“Did you want me?”
Isabella began crying.
“Oh, my darling.”
She held my face between her hands.
May you like
“More than anything.”
And for the first time, I believed it.
