Chapter 12 - The Secret Care Facility|
St. Agnes Residence stood behind a line of bare trees outside Madison, Wisconsin.
The building was modest, with brick walls, narrow windows, and a small garden that looked carefully maintained despite the cold. It was not the sort of place Gabriel expected to find connected to the Moretti family.
He traveled there with Lucia and Evelyn, leaving Marco in charge of the investigation in Chicago.
Anna had insisted that he go.
“You need to know what your father was trying to protect,” she had told him. “And I need you to understand that not every secret is a weapon.”
He had kissed her forehead before leaving.
“I'll be back tomorrow.”
“Don't promise what you can't control.”
He smiled faintly.
“I'll do my best to be back tomorrow.”
At the residence, a director named Margaret Lewis greeted them in a quiet office. She was in her sixties, with silver hair and a voice that conveyed patience without inviting unnecessary questions.
“Isabella Moretti has lived here for many years,” she said. “She prefers privacy, and we respect that.”
Gabriel felt his breath catch.
“She is alive?”
“Yes.”
Lucia covered her mouth.
“Oh, my God.”
Margaret looked at her gently.
“Isabella knows that members of her family may eventually come looking for her. She has asked us not to share her medical information without her consent.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Of course.”
“Would you like to speak with her?”
“Yes. If she agrees.”
Margaret left the room.
A few minutes later, she returned and led them down a quiet hallway to a sunlit sitting room. An elderly woman sat beside the window, a blanket across her lap and a book open on the table.
Her hair was silver, her face lined, but her eyes were unmistakably the same as those in the photograph.
Isabella looked at Gabriel.
“You have your father's eyes.”
He struggled to answer.
“I've been told.”
She glanced at Lucia.
“And you have his stubbornness.”
Lucia began to cry.
“I thought you were dead.”
Isabella closed the book.
“That was what the family needed people to believe.”
Gabriel sat opposite her.
“Why?”
“Because I became ill, and my condition frightened them. They were afraid I would require expensive care. They were afraid people would ask questions. They were afraid that if the family appeared weak, their enemies would take advantage.”
“Did my father know?”
“He was the only one who kept visiting.”
Gabriel looked at the floor.
“Why did he hide you?”
Isabella's expression softened.
“He didn't hide me from himself. He hid me from the people who believed my illness made me a liability.”
She explained that she had developed a serious autoimmune condition in her twenties. Her symptoms were unpredictable, and for years she required specialist care. The family had wanted to send her away permanently, but Gabriel's father had arranged for her to live at St. Agnes and ensured that her medical expenses were paid.
“He told me that one day he hoped the family would become strong enough to stop being ashamed of illness,” Isabella said. “He never lived to see it.”
Lucia wiped her eyes.
“Why did the payments stop?”
Isabella looked at her.
“Because the person who managed the trust decided that I was no longer worth supporting.”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
“Peter Lang?”
“Not originally. Your father appointed another trustee. After his death, the records were transferred to Peter. He reviewed my care expenses and decided the payments were unnecessary.”
“Did you know about the Moretti trust's medical files?”
Isabella nodded.
“I was one of the first people whose information was collected. Your father regretted it. He believed that if the family could understand everyone's medical needs, it could plan better. But the system was taken over by people who wanted to know who might become vulnerable.”
Gabriel thought of Anna's records.
“Did Peter access her information before she became ill?”
“I don't know. But he was interested in anyone who might affect the succession plan.”
Lucia lowered her head.
“We should have stopped him.”
“Yes,” Isabella replied gently. “You should have.”
The answer contained no anger, which somehow made it more painful.
Gabriel asked whether Isabella knew anything about the payments made under Anna's name.
She thought for a moment.
“Anna visited me once.”
Gabriel stared at her.
“When?”
“About a year ago. She came with your mother.”
Lucia looked startled.
“I don't remember that.”
Isabella smiled sadly.
“You were outside speaking with the director. Anna stayed with me for nearly an hour. She asked about my treatment and whether I had ever been afraid to tell my family I was sick.”
Gabriel felt his chest tighten.
“What did you tell her?”
“That fear can make people hide from the very people who might help them. But it can also teach us who is safe to trust.”
Isabella reached for a small box on the table.
Inside was a folded note.
“Your father left this with me. He asked me to give it to you if the family ever began collecting medical records again.”
Gabriel opened it.
The message was written in his father's familiar hand.
Gabriel, if you are reading this, someone has turned our family trust into a weapon. Do not let them decide what your wife is worth.
Below that was a final line.
The person who can expose the truth is not Peter Lang. It is the one person he believes you will never question.
Gabriel read the sentence twice.
Then he looked at Lucia.
His mother had gone completely still.
May you like
And when he asked her what she knew, she whispered:
“Your father was talking about me.”
