Chapter 9 - THE MOTHER ALINA NEVER KNEW
Alina didn't cry.
That scared me more than if she had fallen apart.
She stared at the photograph.
“My mother is Evelyn Hartwell.”
I sat beside her.
“Evelyn raised you.”
“She is my mother.”
“Yes.”
“But this says…”
Her voice broke.
I took the letter.
There was more.
Sofia Bellandi had given birth to Alina twenty-nine years earlier.
Evelyn and Jonathan Hartwell had adopted her privately after Sofia disappeared.
The records had been sealed.
Why?
Because Sofia had believed the people hunting her would eventually search for her child.
Alina's hands started shaking.
“My whole life…”
“Alina.”
“Everyone knew except me.”
“Not everyone.”
“My mother knew.”
I didn't correct her when she called Evelyn that.
She had earned the word.
Luca continued reading.
“Sofia didn't abandon you.”
Alina looked up.
“What?”
“She disappeared because she was afraid you'd be used against her.”
I watched my wife absorb that.
A woman Alina never knew had sacrificed everything to keep her safe.
Suddenly, her instinct to leave me so I wouldn't sacrifice for her made painful sense.
She had inherited a terrible understanding of love.
Leave first.
Protect from a distance.
Disappear if necessary.
No wonder she thought love meant setting me free.
I reached for her hand.
This time, I didn't stop myself.
She let me take it.
The digital drive contained videos.
In one, my father and Jonathan Hartwell sat at a conference table.
Jonathan spoke first.
“If Sofia cannot return, Evelyn and I will raise Alina.”
My father nodded.
“And when she's old enough?”
“We tell her.”
Alina laughed bitterly.
“That worked well.”
Then my father spoke.
“If the danger remains, you wait.”
The video date was twenty-nine years old.
Jonathan leaned forward.
“Vittorio, if Caterina learns Sofia survived long enough to have the child—”
The recording cut.
We all stared.
“Had the child what?” Luca asked.
The next file was corrupted.
A detective began copying it for forensic recovery.
Then my phone rang.
One of our security men.
“We found Mrs. Hartwell.”
Alina stood.
“Where?”
“An abandoned office owned by a Moretti subsidiary.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
Alina sagged with relief.
“But there's something else,” the guard said.
“What?”
“She wasn't alone.”
My pulse sharpened.
“Who was with her?”
“A woman in her sixties.”
“Name?”
The guard hesitated.
“She says her name is Sofia Bellandi.”
Alina stared at me.
Her biological mother wasn't dead.
She wasn't missing.
She was here.
May you like
And then the guard added:
“Mr. Moretti, Sofia says your mother is not the person behind this.”
