Chapter 6 - CLAIRE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO MAKE IT TO MONDAY
I packed my suitcase that afternoon.
Not because Vanessa had fired me.
Because I wanted out.
Luca found me in the staff corridor.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You’re safer here.”
I looked at him.
“That sounds like something men in your family say right before deciding what a woman is allowed to do.”
He went still.
Good.
“I’m sorry.”
That surprised me.
“I’ll arrange independent security if you want it.”
“If I want it.”
“Yes.”
Better.
I agreed to one security professional because investigators believed Vanessa’s framing attempt proved I had become part of the case.
My sister’s surgery was Monday.
I still had the money.
I had saved it myself.
When Luca offered to pay, I refused.
He did not insist.
Another point in his favor.
Not enough to erase the rest of his life.
Then Teresa asked to see me before I left.
Her fingers moved.
Not go.
I sat beside her.
“I have to.”
She looked hurt.
I added:
“I’ll come back to visit if you want.”
She signed:
Yes.
Then:
You listened.
My throat tightened.
She continued.
Everyone talks around me.
You talk to me.
That was the real crime Vanessa had committed before forged documents and medication.
She had decided Teresa’s difficulty speaking meant Teresa had stopped being an adult.
I hugged her carefully.
Then she pressed something into my hand.
A small brass key.
I frowned.
“What is this?”
She signed.
Patricia room.
Upstairs, Teresa had preserved her late sister’s bedroom almost unchanged.
Inside Patricia’s old desk, the key opened a narrow drawer.
I found photographs.
Letters.
And a video recorder.
Old-fashioned.
Digital memory card.
Patricia had died long before smartphones became ordinary, but Teresa had continued using the recorder for family memories.
The newest file was only four months old.
Teresa had apparently positioned it in her bedroom because she suspected people were entering while she slept.
The footage showed Vanessa.
Then Antonio.
Then Julian Sarto.
They stood beside Teresa’s desk.
Julian held documents.
Vanessa practiced Teresa’s signature.
Again.
Again.
Again.
I felt sick.
Then Antonio said:
“She’ll be in Wisconsin before Luca knows what she remembers.”
Vanessa answered:
“And Claire?”
Antonio laughed.
“The maid?”
“She understands the signing.”
Silence.
Antonio’s expression changed.
“When did you learn that?”
“Recently.”
“What does she know?”
“I don’t know.”
Antonio’s answer made my skin turn cold.
“Then make sure she’s gone before Monday.”
The recording ended.
Not dead.
Gone.
Maybe fired.
Maybe framed.
Maybe worse.
We could not know.
But the intent was clear enough that investigators insisted I remain under protection.
Then the next clip began.
Different night.
Luca entered his mother’s room alone.
I almost stopped watching.
He sat beside her bed.
Teresa was asleep.
Luca took her hand and whispered:
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
The file was timestamped six weeks before the dinner.
He had known she was trying to tell him something was wrong.
He simply had not understood what.
Then Teresa woke.
Her fingers moved weakly.
Luca stared.
He did not know enough sign language.
He kissed her forehead.
“I wish I understood you.”
I watched that twice.
Then the final clip opened.
Antonio again.
This time speaking on the phone.
One sentence:
May you like
“Once Teresa is declared incompetent, Luca is next.”
The conspiracy had never been only about his mother.
