Chapter 6 - THE LIE MY MOTHER TOLD TO KEEP ME ALIVE
My mother was waiting when I returned home.
She knew something had changed before I spoke.
"Clara?"
I placed the photograph on the kitchen table.
She stared at it.
Then sat down.
For a long time, she said nothing.
I wanted to shout.
Demand answers.
Ask how she could have hidden so much.
Instead, I sat across from her.
"Please tell me the truth."
She touched the photograph.
"I was trying to save your father."
"By meeting Victor Sloane?"
"He contacted me."
"Why?"
"He said Daniel was in danger."
Her voice trembled.
"He told me your father had stolen money from the company. He said if Daniel returned the documents, everything would go away."
"Did you believe him?"
"No."
"Then why did you meet him?"
"Because he showed me a photograph of you walking home from school."
My stomach tightened.
"He said accidents happened to children every day."
I looked away.
My mother began crying.
"I didn't know what else to do."
"What did you give him?"
"Nothing. I didn't have the documents."
"Then what happened?"
"He told me Daniel would die if I warned anyone."
She pressed her hands together.
"I went home. I waited. I tried calling your father. He never answered."
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"I did."
That surprised me.
"What?"
"I went to the station the next morning. The detective told me Daniel had been killed in an industrial accident."
She swallowed.
"He already had the death certificate."
"Before anyone contacted you?"
She nodded.
Something inside me went cold.
"Who was the detective?"
"I don't remember his name."
"Would you recognize him?"
"Yes."
I showed her a photograph Rachel had found in the storage records.
A police officer standing beside Salvatore Moretti.
My mother gasped.
"That's him."
Enzo, who had remained in the living room to give us privacy, stepped closer.
"Detective Harold Crane," he said.
"Do you know him?" I asked.
"He's retired. But he handled several cases involving my family."
I looked at my mother.
"Why didn't you tell me any of this?"
She reached for my hand.
"Because after Daniel disappeared, Victor came to our house."
I froze.
"He told me that if I ever mentioned the meeting, you'd disappear too."
My anger faltered.
For eleven years, my mother had lived with a threat I hadn't known existed.
She had raised me.
Worked two jobs.
Survived illness.
And carried the belief that one wrong word could cost her daughter everything.
I moved around the table.
She began apologizing before I reached her.
"I'm sorry, Clara. I'm so sorry."
I wrapped my arms around her.
"We'll figure this out."
She held me tightly.
"I don't want you involved."
"I already am."
That night, Enzo drove me back to Vincenzo's because I insisted on finishing my shift.
He didn't argue.
He only asked that I tell him if anything unusual happened.
When we reached the bar, I noticed a new sign outside.
ANNIVERSARY GALA — PRIVATE EVENT IN FOUR WEEKS.
The red dress.
The guest list.
Victor Sloane.
Everything was converging on that night.
I turned toward Enzo.
"Why is Sloane invited?"
His expression hardened.
"Because my uncle insisted."
"Salvatore?"
"Yes."
"Does he know what we found?"
"Not yet."
I looked at the entrance.
"Then maybe we shouldn't cancel the gala."
Enzo studied me.
"What are you thinking?"
"That people who believe they've won tend to get careless."
He shook his head.
"Clara, this isn't a game."
"I know."
"People could get hurt."
"I know that too."
He looked at me for a long time.
Then said, "You sound like your father."
I smiled sadly.
"Maybe that's not such a bad thing."
Enzo's gaze softened.
May you like
"No," he said.
"It isn't."
