Chapter 7 - The Expert Who Knew Where Isabella Went
Dr. Cassandra Wren had spent twenty-three years protecting a secret.
Now I understood why she went pale when she heard the word heir.
She hadn't merely been translating a historical letter.
She knew the person it described.
She'd helped hide that person.
Isabella.
The little girl who once slept in the bed beside mine.
I stared at Cassandra's old employment records while Gabriel stood across from me.
"Where is she now?" I asked.
The investigator shook his head.
"We're working to establish that."
I swallowed.
"She could be anywhere."
"Yes."
The uncertainty was unbearable.
I wanted to find Cassandra myself.
Demand answers.
Make her explain what happened to a child who'd trusted my mother.
But Elizabeth advised me to let investigators secure the relevant records and interview witnesses.
I hated waiting.
Then something unexpected happened.
Cassandra's attorney contacted the investigation team.
She wanted to provide a statement.
According to Cassandra, she had worked as an administrator at St. Agnes before becoming a manuscript specialist.
Silvio Romano paid her to conceal certain guardianship and trust records.
At first, she believed she was protecting Isabella from a dangerous family dispute.
Later, she realized the documents had been manipulated to prevent the girl from inheriting anything.
"Why didn't she speak up?" I asked.
The investigator answered carefully.
"Cassandra says Silvio threatened her family."
I looked down.
Another threat.
Another person who chose silence because speaking seemed too dangerous.
That didn't erase her responsibility.
But it explained how the conspiracy survived so long.
Then Cassandra provided an old letter.
It had been written by Isabella when she was sixteen.
Dear Aunt Eleanor,
I don't know whether you'll ever receive this.
My throat tightened.
They told me you didn't want me anymore.
I covered my mouth.
I don't believe them.
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
I remember Mara. I remember our little apartment. I remember the blue marble she hid inside Grandpa's piano.
I began crying.
She remembered me.
After all those years, she remembered.
The final paragraph nearly broke my heart.
If you ever see Mara, tell her I didn't forget her.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
Gabriel looked away, giving me a moment.
Then the investigator continued.
Cassandra had provided the name Isabella used as an adult.
BELLA MARIN.
She'd changed her name after leaving the institution.
The investigators traced her to a language school in Portland, Maine.
I sat upright.
"She's alive?"
The investigator nodded.
"We have recent records suggesting she is."
For the first time in days, I felt hope.
Then Gabriel received a call.
His expression changed.
"What?"
He listened.
Then looked toward me.
"There's a problem."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Someone contacted Isabella's employer this morning."
"Who?"
Gabriel's voice became cold.
May you like
"Silvio Romano."
And according to the school's administrator, Isabella had disappeared less than an hour afterward.
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