Chapter 11 - THE WOMAN WHO WAS ERASED|
Dante did not defend his father.
That was the first thing Nora noticed.
He stood in the chapel, staring at the image of the man who had raised him, and said nothing while the truth dismantled everything he believed about his family.
Finally, he turned to Aurelio.
“Where is he now?”
“At the estate in Connecticut. He has been ill for months.”
“And you never told me?”
“I hoped the past would remain buried.”
Dante's laugh held no humor.
“The past has been breaking into our house, threatening a waitress, and stealing our records. It is not buried.”
Nora wanted to leave.
She wanted to return to the diner, put on her apron, and become the invisible girl who worried about tips instead of murdered relatives.
But her mother had been taken from her family. Her grandmother had spent a lifetime living with a secret. And now the people responsible were still making decisions about her life.
“I want to speak to your father,” she said.
Dante looked at her.
“I don't recommend it.”
“I didn't ask for a recommendation.”
He studied her face.
Then he nodded.
They drove to Connecticut under heavy security. The estate was smaller than the Brooklyn mansion, but more heavily guarded. Dante's father, Vittorio Vescari, lay in a bedroom overlooking a frozen garden.
He looked frail, with silver hair and hollow cheeks.
When he saw Nora, his expression changed.
“Isabella's granddaughter.”
Nora stood at the foot of the bed.
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my mother was Isabella's daughter.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell her?”
Vittorio closed his eyes.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Salvatore. The police. The truth. Take your pick.”
Nora's anger trembled in her voice.
“My mother died believing she was an ordinary woman. My grandmother spent decades thinking her child had been stolen. You let them suffer because you wanted to protect your family's reputation.”
“I was trying to protect them from Salvatore.”
“You protected the family name.”
He looked at her.
“And I was wrong.”
The admission was so unexpected that Nora had no answer.
Vittorio asked Dante to bring a small wooden box from the bedside cabinet. Inside lay a photograph, a passport, and a document signed by a judge.
The passport belonged to Catherine Bellamy.
The document was an adoption order.
A note had been attached.
The child must be raised outside the Vescari name. If she returns, tell her the truth.
Nora touched the passport.
“Why keep this?”
“Because I hoped one day I would have the courage to give it to her.”
“You had years.”
“Yes.”
“And you wasted them.”
Vittorio lowered his eyes.
“I did.”
For a moment, Nora felt pity. Then she remembered her mother's empty chair at family dinners and the years her grandmother had spent refusing to speak about Sicily.
Pity was not forgiveness.
“Tell me where Salvatore is,” she said.
Vittorio looked at Dante.
“He has been living under another name. He controls a shipping company in New Jersey. He intends to sell the remaining records to the highest bidder.”
“Who is helping him?”
Vittorio hesitated.
May you like
Then he said a name Nora had not expected.
“Your grandmother's doctor.”
