Chapter 8 - THE MOTHER WHO WAS HIDDEN FROM HER SON
Rosa Moretti was alive.
That possibility seemed impossible.
I had mourned her for seven years.
Gabriel had mourned her for decades.
And now an anonymous photograph suggested she might still be somewhere in the world.
I stared at the screen.
“Is that really Anthony?”
Gabriel nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“And the message?”
He swallowed.
“I don't know.”
Rebecca contacted investigators reviewing Anthony's property.
They obtained information from former employees.
One described an older woman living in a private residence connected to the Hayes family.
She cooked.
Read books.
Tended a small garden.
And rarely left the property.
Her name was Rose Martin.
The description made my heart pound.
Rosa had always loved gardening.
Even in Apartment 4B, she kept tiny pots of basil and thyme on the windowsill.
I looked toward Gabriel.
“We need to verify it.”
He nodded.
For once, neither of us wanted to believe something simply because we desperately hoped it was true.
The investigation continued.
A photograph of Rose Martin was obtained through authorized records.
I stared.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
Rosa.
The woman who taught me stracotto.
The woman who tied my shoes when I was nine.
The woman who made me feel safe when my mother worked nights.
I covered my mouth.
“It's her.”
Gabriel sat slowly.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he whispered, “Mom.”
The residence was located outside Saratoga Springs.
Through appropriate legal channels, Rosa was offered the chance to speak with investigators and independent advocates.
She agreed.
Her story was devastating.
Anthony had told her Gabriel died when he was sixteen.
After she began investigating financial misconduct connected to Saint Agnes, he threatened her.
She tried to leave.
Years later, she became seriously ill.
Anthony arranged private care.
Then used false records to make it appear she'd died.
For years, Rosa lived under another name.
Her communication was restricted.
She was repeatedly told the people she loved had moved on.
But she never stopped asking about Gabriel.
Or me.
When she learned we were searching for her, she began crying.
The reunion took place in a quiet garden.
Gabriel entered first.
I waited nearby.
When Rosa saw him, she covered her mouth.
“Gabriel?”
He stopped.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then she stood.
“My boy?”
Gabriel crossed the garden.
She opened her arms.
And the most feared man in the city collapsed against his mother's shoulder.
I cried so hard I could barely see.
For years, both had believed the other was dead.
Now they were holding each other.
Rosa stroked Gabriel's hair.
“I'm here.”
He whispered, “I thought you left me.”
She shook her head.
“Never.”
Then Rosa looked toward me.
“Norah?”
I stepped forward.
Her eyes filled.
“My little girl.”
I ran into her arms.
For the first time in seven years, I smelled lavender and cinnamon.
Home.
Rosa held us both.
Then whispered something that changed everything.
“Anthony knew Gabriel would eventually find the truth.”
Gabriel pulled back.
“What?”
Rosa looked frightened.
“He didn't hide me only because of the stolen money.”
I swallowed.
“Then why?”
She looked toward me.
Then whispered:
“Because Norah's father was the one person who could prove what Anthony did.”
I stared.
“My father?”
Rosa nodded.
And then she revealed his name.
Daniel Bennett.
May you like
The man I'd been told abandoned my mother before I was born.
According to Rosa, he had disappeared while investigating Saint Agnes.
