Chapter 4 - THE SIGNATURE THAT MADE HIM DOUBT HIS MOTHER
Roman Moretti stared at his mother's signature.
For the first time since I'd met him, he looked genuinely frightened.
"She wouldn't."
Detective Bennett studied him.
"You recognize the handwriting?"
"Yes."
"Can you confirm the signature?"
Roman hesitated.
"It resembles hers."
I stood.
"Your mother took my brother?"
Roman looked toward me.
"Harper, we don't know what this document means."
I laughed bitterly.
"Yesterday she was the sweetest woman I'd ever met."
He didn't argue.
"She still may be."
I stared at him.
"Then why is her name on my brother's transfer paperwork?"
Roman lowered his eyes.
"I intend to ask her."
The next morning, he arranged a meeting at Beatrice's apartment.
I nearly refused.
Part of me wanted to believe the old woman who'd squeezed my hand at Bellamy House was innocent.
Another part couldn't stop imagining Owen being taken away while everyone told me he'd died.
When we arrived, Beatrice was sitting beside a sunny window.
She smiled when she saw me.
Harper!
Her hands moved warmly.
You came back.
I swallowed.
Then signed.
I need to ask you something.
Her smile faded.
About Owen?
My heart stopped.
You know his name?
Beatrice closed her eyes.
Roman stepped closer.
"Mom, what happened to Harper's brother?"
She looked at him.
Then signed slowly.
I tried to save him.
My knees weakened.
From what? I asked.
Beatrice's hands trembled.
People were taking children who couldn't easily tell others what had happened.
A chill ran down my spine.
Roman watched us.
"What is she saying?"
I translated.
His face hardened.
"Who?"
Beatrice looked toward the window.
Then signed:
Your father.
Roman stopped breathing.
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
Why would your husband do that?
Beatrice's eyes filled with tears.
He used the foundation to hide illegal adoptions and move money. I discovered it too late.
Roman covered his mouth.
"Mom…"
She continued signing.
Owen was supposed to disappear permanently. Margaret helped me move him somewhere safer.
I began crying.
Then he's alive?
Beatrice nodded.
He was when I last saw him.
My heart raced.
Where?
She hesitated.
Then reached inside a wooden cabinet.
She removed a small blue notebook.
Inside were names.
Dates.
Locations.
And a photograph of Owen, older and smiling beside another boy.
I covered my mouth.
But when Beatrice turned the final page, Roman suddenly grabbed the table.
There was another name on the list.
His younger sister.
Elena Moretti.
The sister who supposedly died at age six.
May you like
And beside her name was a recent address.
In the same building where Owen had been photographed.
