Chapter 5
Luca did not tell Sofia immediately.
He did not tell Eva either.
For once, everyone agreed that seven-year-old girls did not need their entire family history delivered between midnight and breakfast.
Victoria was taken to the hospital under guard for smoke exposure.
Then into police custody.
Arthur stayed.
Not because Luca trusted him.
Because Arthur knew where too many things were buried.
Figuratively.
Hopefully.
We returned to the estate at four in the morning.
Sofia and Eva were asleep in the same bed.
Sofia’s arm thrown over Eva.
Two identical breathing rhythms.
Now that I knew, I could see it.
Not identical faces.
But similarities.
Same ears.
Same tiny dimple near the left cheek.
Same way their hands curled in sleep.
Luca stood in the doorway.
He looked destroyed.
I stood beside him.
Diesel lay across the threshold like a guard.
“I should have known.”
I looked at Luca.
“How?”
“I was there.”
“At the birth?”
“Yes.”
“Not the whole time.”
His jaw tightened.
“They told me one baby.”
“You were grieving Elena almost losing her life.”
“I still should have known.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You say that easily.”
“Because it’s true.”
He stared at the girls.
“One daughter was stolen.”
“Hidden.”
“Same thing.”
Maybe.
I did not argue.
Marina arrived just before dawn.
This time for real.
No messages.
No intermediaries.
No disappearing.
She entered the foyer and stopped when she saw Luca.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
Same face as Eva.
Older.
Tired.
“Where is she?”
Luca stared.
“Which one?”
Marina flinched.
Good.
He continued.
“My daughters.”
Her eyes filled.
“Upstairs.”
“You knew they were twins.”
“Yes.”
“You let me raise one.”
“Yes.”
“You raised the other.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe Eva was yours.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena asked me.”
He laughed bitterly.
“There it is.”
Marina closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“No.”
His voice broke.
“You do not.”
Silence.
He stepped closer.
“Did Elena ask me?”
“No.”
“Did anyone ask me?”
“No.”
“Did anyone think I might have wanted both daughters?”
Marina started crying.
“She was trying to keep one safe.”
“From Victoria.”
“Yes.”
“Then why not tell me?”
“Because Elena believed Victoria controlled parts of your security.”
Luca looked at Marco.
He went still.
Marina continued.
“She did.”
“Who?”
“Your former security director.”
Marco’s face hardened.
“Stefan Cole.”
Luca stared.
“He died last year.”
Marina nodded.
“He worked for Victoria.”
“Proof?”
“Archive Room Two.”
Arthur whispered:
“There are seven rooms.”
Luca looked at him.
“Yes. We know.”
Marina continued.
“Elena believed if both girls stayed here, Victoria could take both.”
“So she sent Eva away.”
“Yes.”
“With you.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you disappear too?”
“Because Victoria found out.”
“When?”
“Six months after the birth.”
“So you faked your death.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What?”
“My death was reported by Victoria.”
“But you did not plan it.”
“No.”
“She erased you.”
“Yes.”
That was different.
Still horrible.
Luca looked toward the stairs.
“Does Eva know?”
“That I’m her mother?”
“Yes.”
“That you are her father?”
Marina swallowed.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I told her her father died.”
Luca’s face hardened.
“Of course.”
Marina flinched.
“Do not.”
“Do not what?”
“Make me defend a lie I regret every day.”
Silence.
That answer landed.
Not excuse.
Regret.
Maybe Luca heard it too.
He looked away.
I asked:
“Why send Eva now?”
Marina looked at me.
“Because Sofia is turning eight.”
“The trust trigger.”
“Yes.”
“And Victoria would challenge.”
“Yes.”
“Why not come yourself?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“Arthur.”
Everyone turned.
Arthur looked ashamed.
Marina continued:
“He intercepted my attorney.”
Arthur said quietly:
“Victoria ordered me to.”
Luca’s face hardened.
“You were still working for her.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you gave us the trust papers.”
“Yes.”
“Why switch sides?”
Arthur looked toward upstairs.
“Because I met Eva.”
Silence.
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
“What changed?”
“She asked me if Sofia knew she existed.”
His voice broke slightly.
“I said no.”
“What did she say?”
Arthur looked down.
“She said, ‘That’s sad. Sisters should know each other.’”
No one spoke.
Children had a way of making adult strategies sound monstrous.
Arthur continued:
“I realized Victoria was going to destroy both of them just to own an archive.”
Luca stared.
“So guilt.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Arthur looked surprised.
Luca continued:
“Guilt is useful if it changes behavior.”
I remembered that.
So did Isabella, probably.
She sat in the breakfast room now, silent.
She had not spoken since we returned.
I looked at her.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Nothing.”
I raised an eyebrow.
She sighed.
“Fine.”
Progress.
“I was thinking about Elena.”
“What about her?”
“She knew Sofia would need Claire.”
Luca looked at me.
I hated being turned into destiny.
“I was nineteen.”
Isabella nodded.
“She watched you save Sofia.”
“I did what the doctor told me.”
“You stayed after everyone else panicked.”
I stared.
“That does not qualify me to manage a trust.”
“No.”
“Good.”
“But it may have qualified you in Elena’s mind to protect a child.”
That was harder to dismiss.
Luca looked toward me.
“You don’t have to do it.”
I met his eyes.
“Not today.”
“Good.”
Choice.
Again.
Marina looked at Isabella.
“You knew Claire was Anne’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Anne raised her for Elena?”
Isabella froze.
“What?”
Everyone turned.
I stared.
“For Elena?”
Marina looked at me.
“Claire.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Anne was not your biological mother.”
Silence.
Not again.
I laughed once.
“Of course.”
Luca closed his eyes.
Marina continued carefully.
“Elena was.”
No one moved.
I stared.
“What?”
“You were Elena’s first child.”
The room disappeared.
“No.”
“She was sixteen.”
“No.”
“Anne raised you as her own.”
My hands started shaking.
Luca looked sick.
His late wife.
My mother.
That made Sofia and Eva—
my half sisters.
And Luca—
not my blood relative.
But the widower of my biological mother.
The family geometry became stranger, not simpler.
I stared at Marina.
“Who was my father?”
“Gabriel Moretti.”
Luca’s face changed.
“My uncle.”
“Yes.”
So Luca and I were cousins through Gabriel’s family anyway.
Of course.
Nothing could ever be simple.
I laughed through tears.
“This family is mathematically impossible.”
Arthur almost smiled.
No one else did.
Marina continued:
“Elena gave birth to you secretly.”
“Where?”
“Boston.”
“Did she hold me?”
“Yes.”
“Did she want me?”
Marina’s face softened.
“Yes.”
“Then why give me away?”
“Because Victoria would have used you as first heir.”
The archive.
Again.
“So Anne took me.”
“Yes.”
“Did Anne love me?”
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately.
Good.
“Did Elena?”
“Yes.”
“Did she watch me?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the photograph from Sofia’s birth.
Elena smiling behind me.
My biological mother.
Watching her grown daughter hold her newborn half sister.
She had known.
I had not.
My throat closed.
“She was right there.”
Marina started crying.
“I know.”
“She could have told me.”
“I know.”
“She chose not to.”
“Yes.”
I hated everyone’s honesty now that the lies were over.
Luca moved toward the doorway.
Not leaving.
Giving me room.
I appreciated that.
Diesel came closer.
I sat on the floor because standing hurt.
He put his head in my lap.
I cried into his neck.
No one touched me.
Good.
After a while, Sofia appeared.
Sleepy.
Hair messy.
She looked at the room.
“Why is everybody sad?”
I wiped my face.
“Family stuff.”
She nodded solemnly.
“Is Eva my sister?”
Everyone froze.
Children again.
No patience for strategy.
Luca crouched.
“Yes.”
Sofia’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Like real sister?”
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
She ran upstairs.
We all stared.
Then heard her yell:
“EVA! DAD SAYS YOU’RE MY SISTER!”
Eva screamed:
“I KNEW IT!”
For the first time that morning, everyone laughed.
Even Luca.
Even Marina.
Even me.
Then Sofia ran back down.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“Are you our sister too?”
Silence.
I looked at Luca.
He smiled faintly.
“Apparently.”
I looked at Sofia.
“Yes.”
Her face lit up.
“Cooler.”
Then she hugged me carefully around the shoulders.
No trust document.
No archive.
No legal fight.
Just a little girl happy to have more sisters.
Maybe family could be that simple after all.
At least for one minute.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
Luca asked.
“Arthur Crane’s office was searched.”
Arthur stood.
“By who?”
“Police.”
“No.”
Marco shook his head.
“Before police.”
He looked at Arthur.
“Someone took Elena’s journal.”
Silence.
Arthur went pale.
“What journal?”
Marina whispered:
“The one where she wrote who poisoned her.”
Luca stopped breathing.
The room became cold again.
“Who had access?”
Arthur stared toward Isabella.
Then Marina.
Then me.
“One person.”
“Name.”
He swallowed.
“Grace Moretti.”
My supposed half sister.
After Sofia ran upstairs to tell Eva, Marina sat at the breakfast table and covered her face.
“I thought she would hate me.”
Luca looked at her.
“She may later.”
Marina lifted her head.
I almost laughed.
He continued:
“She is seven.”
“That’s your comfort?”
“No.”
“It’s honest.”
Marina exhaled.
“Yes.”
I looked at her.
“Did Eva ever ask about her father?”
“Constantly.”
“What did you say?”
“That he died before she was born.”
Luca closed his eyes.
Marina looked ashamed.
“I know.”
“Did you ever show her a photo?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because every photograph of Luca would have told her too much.”
I thought of Eva at the staircase.
Her face.
Her curiosity.
The ease with which she trusted Sofia.
“She deserved better.”
“Yes.”
Marina nodded.
“So did Luca.”
He looked away.
No one defended the lie.
That was progress.
The woman who had framed me.
May you like
And according to Arthur—
the only person who knew where Elena’s final journal was hidden.
