Chapter 6 - The Sister Who Had Been Erased From My Childhood
I had a sister.
Not by blood, according to my mother.
But a little girl who had once shared my bedroom, played with my toys, and called Eleanor Quinn her mother.
Her name was Isabella Moretti.
And someone had erased her from my childhood.
I sat inside Elizabeth Shaw's office staring at an old family photograph.
Two little girls stood beside a Christmas tree.
I was four.
The older girl looked about seven.
She had dark curls, serious eyes, and a small silver bracelet around her wrist.
I remembered that bracelet.
I remembered fighting over a stuffed rabbit.
And suddenly, I remembered the day she disappeared.
Mom had packed her little red suitcase.
I asked where Isabella was going.
Mom told me she was visiting relatives.
She never returned.
"Why didn't Mom tell me?" I whispered.
Elizabeth looked toward the photograph.
"We'll need to hear her explanation."
I nodded.
But the pain in my chest didn't disappear.
I'd spent years believing my family was small because life had taken people away.
Now I was discovering that someone had deliberately made it smaller.
Gabriel arrived that afternoon.
When he saw the photograph, his expression changed.
"Isabella."
I looked up.
"You recognize her?"
He shook his head slowly.
"Not personally."
"Then what?"
He sat opposite me.
"Alessandro had a daughter named Isabella. My father told me she died shortly after her birth."
My stomach tightened.
"Another death without a body?"
Gabriel lowered his eyes.
"Apparently."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then I asked something that had been bothering me.
"Who told you Alessandro drowned?"
"My father."
"Who told you Isabella died?"
"My father."
"And who controlled your family's records after your father died?"
Gabriel's expression hardened.
"Silvio."
The same man who had paid Cassandra to mistranslate the letter.
The same man my mother accused of arranging her disappearance.
Gabriel looked toward the window.
"I've trusted Silvio for nineteen years."
I folded my arms.
"That doesn't make him innocent."
He nodded slowly.
"You're right."
For the first time, the feared mafia boss of Boston looked like a man who understood the danger of trusting someone simply because he'd always been there.
Then Elizabeth received an update from the investigators.
The records surrounding Isabella's disappearance had been examined.
Her original birth certificate identified Alessandro Moretti as her father.
Her mother had died from complications shortly after childbirth.
Eleanor Quinn became her temporary legal guardian.
Then, four years later, someone filed paperwork transferring Isabella to a private boarding institution.
I stared at the document.
"Who authorized it?"
Elizabeth hesitated.
"The signature appears to be Eleanor's."
I shook my head.
"Mom would never have sent her away without telling me."
"That may be true. The signature needs verification."
Then Elizabeth turned the page.
The institution was called St. Agnes Academy.
It had closed fifteen years earlier.
But the final student transfer record showed Isabella being moved to another facility.
A private residential school outside Boston.
Its administrator was listed as:
DR. CASSANDRA WREN.
My blood ran cold.
May you like
The woman who laughed when I corrected the letter had been responsible for my missing sister.
And according to the final record, Isabella was still alive when Cassandra took custody of her.
Related Stories
