Chapter 11 - THE FATHER WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD|
Donatella held the receiver with both hands.
"Dad?"
Silence answered her.
Then the man on the other end exhaled shakily.
"I don't have much time."
She covered her mouth. For twenty-one years, she had carried the belief that her father had abandoned her. She had imagined him living somewhere without a care, while she and her mother struggled to pay rent and keep food on the table. When Isabella died, Donatella had secretly hated him for leaving her alone with a grief she could barely understand.
Now his voice had returned from the dead.
"Where are you?" she whispered.
"Somewhere safe for the moment. Don't ask me to explain everything over the telephone."
"I deserve an explanation."
"You deserve much more than that, sweetheart."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Why did you leave us?"
The silence that followed was worse than any answer.
"I didn't leave you by choice."
"Then why didn't you come back?"
"Because the people who took me threatened to kill you if I tried."
Ettore stood nearby, listening without interrupting. Marco was already tracing the call, but the signal was being routed through several temporary numbers.
Donatella pressed the receiver closer.
"Who took you?"
"Raffaele Moretti. He wanted the ledger. I refused to tell him where Isabella had hidden it, so he made sure I could never reach you."
"Where is Mom's sister? Is Teresa safe?"
"Teresa?" Her father sounded confused. "You found Teresa?"
"She's alive."
A shaky laugh came through the line, followed by a cough.
"Then perhaps we're not too late."
"Too late for what?"
"Donatella, listen to me. The ledger is important, but it's not the most dangerous thing your mother left behind. She had a second set of records, and those records name the people who arranged Salvatore's disappearance. Raffaele knows the ledger can be challenged. He cannot challenge the original recording."
"We found the recording."
"Then you've heard only part of it."
Donatella looked at Ettore.
"What do you mean, part of it?"
"Your mother made a second recording. She hid it in a place only you would understand. Think about the lullaby she used to sing when you were little."
Donatella's throat tightened.
"The bluebird song?"
"Yes. She changed the last line every time she sang it. She was trying to remember a password without writing it down."
Before Donatella could ask another question, a sharp noise sounded on the line.
Her father gasped.
"Someone's here."
"Dad!"
"Don't let Ettore take you to the estate. If you go there, you'll discover why Isabella was afraid of the man who—"
The call ended.
Donatella stared at the receiver.
"Trace it," she ordered Marco.
He nodded and hurried away.
Ettore approached cautiously.
"I didn't know he was alive."
"But your family knew he was missing."
"My uncle told me Matteo Bellini had stolen money and fled. I had no reason to believe otherwise."
"You had twenty-eight years to ask questions."
The accusation landed hard. Ettore did not defend himself.
"You're right," he said. "I should have investigated. I trusted the wrong person because trusting him was easier than questioning everything I had been taught."
Donatella wiped her cheeks.
"That doesn't make you responsible for everything Raffaele did."
"No. But it makes me responsible for what I do now."
Marco returned with an address traced to a public telephone in an abandoned industrial district. Ettore immediately arranged a discreet search.
Donatella insisted on going.
Ettore started to refuse, then stopped himself.
"You're coming only if you agree to stay behind the security team."
"I agree to follow the plan. I don't agree to be treated like luggage."
"Fair enough."
They reached the industrial district shortly after midnight. The telephone booth stood beneath a broken streetlight, surrounded by empty warehouses and weeds growing through cracked pavement.
A small envelope had been tucked beneath the receiver.
Inside was a photograph of Donatella's father, taken recently. He sat in a chair with a blanket over his knees, his face thinner than she remembered but unmistakable.
On the back, he had written a message.
THE SECOND RECORDING IS WHERE YOUR MOTHER TAUGHT YOU TO HIDE FROM THUNDER.
Donatella closed her eyes.
She knew exactly where that was.
The old house where she had spent her childhood had a narrow cupboard beneath the staircase. During storms, her mother used to hide her there with a flashlight and a blanket.
May you like
But the house had been sold years ago.
And the new owner was none other than Raffaele Moretti.
