Chapter 5 - THE SECRET ISABELLA TOOK TO HER GRAVE
I found Hannah at the hotel where she worked.
She was carrying a tray of coffee when I entered.
Her expression changed immediately.
"Mr. Moretti."
"We need to talk."
She looked toward her manager.
"I'm working."
"I'll wait."
That surprised her.
I sat at an empty table.
For forty minutes, I watched her serve guests, clear dishes, and move through the restaurant with quiet efficiency.
Several customers were rude.
One complained about her weight within earshot.
Hannah did not respond.
She simply finished her work.
When her shift ended, she approached.
"What do you want to know?"
I placed Isabella's calendar on the table.
Hannah stared at the initials.
Then closed her eyes.
"You found it."
"Did you know my wife?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
"How?"
"Through the rehabilitation center."
I stared.
"Isabella wasn't a patient."
"No."
Hannah sat down.
"She was helping fund a program for children whose families couldn't afford therapy."
I remembered Isabella speaking about community rehabilitation services.
I had listened only long enough to approve a donation.
Hannah continued.
"She discovered that some of the money wasn't reaching the patients."
My jaw tightened.
"What money?"
"Foundation grants."
I went still.
The Moretti Children's Foundation had been established in Isabella's name.
Dominic managed its security and several financial operations.
Hannah looked at me.
"Your wife was investigating missing funds."
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"She said she was afraid someone close to you was involved."
I swallowed.
"Did she name anyone?"
Hannah hesitated.
Then whispered:
"Dominic."
I stared at her.
"Why were you meeting her that night?"
"She asked me to bring copies of patient records showing which treatments had been denied."
"Did you meet?"
"No."
Hannah's eyes filled.
"I was waiting near the river road when I saw her car go over the barrier."
My throat tightened.
"She was coming to you."
Hannah nodded.
"And I couldn't save her."
I looked at the woman sitting across from me.
For three years, she had carried guilt for a death she had not caused.
I understood that kind of guilt.
I had been carrying my own.
"Why didn't you tell me at the gala?"
She looked down.
"Because Sophia was there."
I stared.
Hannah's voice softened.
"She had just walked for the first time in years. I wasn't going to turn that moment into another nightmare."
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For the first time, I understood why my daughter trusted her.
Hannah had protected Sophia's happiness even when telling the truth might have protected herself.
