Chapter 10 - THE NIGHT ISABELLA DISAPPEARED
Isabella went missing on a Thursday afternoon.
She had left the estate to visit Lucia's grave.
Her driver waited outside the cemetery.
She told him she wanted a few minutes alone.
Twenty minutes later, she was gone.
Lorenzo called me at work.
His voice was different.
“Sophie.”
I stood.
“What happened?”
“My mother's missing.”
The world tilted.
“What?”
“Her driver can't find her.”
Police were notified immediately.
Security footage from nearby roads was reviewed.
Lorenzo's staff provided information about Isabella's movements.
I went to the estate because I couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
Lorenzo stood in the library.
He looked as though he'd aged ten years.
“She's seventy-four,” he whispered.
I approached.
“Lorenzo.”
“She gets dizzy sometimes.”
I took his hand.
“We'll help find her.”
He looked at me.
“What if someone took her because of the investigation?”
I couldn't answer.
Hours passed.
Then Antonio received a call.
Isabella had been found.
She was at a neighborhood church several miles from the cemetery.
Safe.
Confused.
And frightened.
Lorenzo drove there immediately.
I went with him.
When we entered, Isabella was sitting beside a volunteer, holding a cup of tea.
“Mama!”
She looked up.
“Lorenzo?”
He crossed the room and embraced her.
She began crying.
“I couldn't find the car.”
He held her tighter.
“It's okay.”
The volunteer explained that Isabella had become disoriented after leaving the cemetery through a different gate.
She'd accepted help from a passerby who brought her to the church.
No evidence indicated she'd been abducted.
But the incident made clear that Isabella needed a more thorough medical evaluation and a plan to help her navigate safely.
Back at the estate, Lorenzo sat beside her.
“Mama, why didn't you call?”
She looked ashamed.
“I couldn't remember the number.”
His eyes filled.
She whispered:
“I'm frightened, Lorenzo.”
He took her hands.
“Of what?”
She looked down.
“That I'm becoming someone who needs help.”
I sat beside her.
“Isabella.”
She looked up.
“Needing help doesn't make you less yourself.”
She began crying.
I hugged her.
Lorenzo watched us.
And in that moment, I realized something.
The woman who had once been humiliated for appearing confused was now surrounded by people determined to protect her dignity.
Not because she was Lorenzo Moretti's mother.
Because she deserved it.
Later that night, Lorenzo found me in the garden.
He looked exhausted.
“Thank you.”
I smiled sadly.
“For what?”
“For loving her when you didn't have to.”
I looked at him.
“She's easy to love.”
He stepped closer.
“So are you.”
My heart stopped.
He touched my cheek.
“May I kiss you?”
I nodded.
May you like
“Yes.”
And beneath the garden lights, Lorenzo Moretti kissed me for the first time.
