Chapter 3 - THE CHILD IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
Elena had barely finished speaking when footsteps sounded outside the bedroom.
I pulled her behind the dressing room door just as Vivien entered.
She carried a glass of water and wore the concerned expression she'd perfected for public appearances.
"Lorenzo?"
I stepped out with the envelope in my hand.
"Looking for something?"
Her gaze dropped to the brass key.
For the first time since I'd known her, she looked genuinely frightened.
"That belongs to your family."
"So does this room. Yet someone has been visiting it without permission."
She recovered quickly.
"I was worried about the old photographs. I thought perhaps we could have the room renovated before the wedding."
"How thoughtful."
She touched my arm.
"Darling, your mother was troubled toward the end. You know that. It's better not to reopen old wounds."
I smiled.
"Then you won't mind if I open this envelope."
Her hand tightened around my wrist.
"Not tonight."
The command came too quickly.
I gently removed her fingers.
"Good night, Vivien."
She left, but not before casting a lingering glance at the dressing room door.
When the footsteps faded, Elena emerged.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a birth certificate, a photograph of my mother holding a newborn, and a letter dated eleven years earlier.
The photograph showed another woman standing beside her.
Elena recognized her immediately.
"My mother," she whispered.
The letter explained that my mother had discovered a secret about my father's business shortly before her death. She had hidden evidence with Elena's mother and arranged for a child to be raised far from the Duca family.
But the letter ended before revealing the child's identity.
I turned the birth certificate over.
Someone had written a single name across the back.
Mia.
I read it twice.
Then I looked toward the hallway where the little girl was sleeping.
May you like
My mother's final secret had been hidden in plain sight.
And the child Vivien threatened to erase might be the very person my mother had died trying to protect.
