Chapter 11 - THE MAN WHO TRIED TO STOP THE DOCTOR

For days, I'd believed Matteo Moretti was another powerful man trying to hide his own guilt.

Now a twelve-year-old girl was telling me he'd tried to stop the doctor who may have harmed my mother.

I didn't know what to believe anymore.

I called Matteo.

He answered immediately.

"Tessa."

"Did you visit my mother's clinic three years ago?"

Silence.

Then he said:

"Yes."

My heart pounded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He took a breath.

"Because I didn't know how."

I laughed bitterly.

"That's not good enough."

"I know."

"Did you see Dr. Vescari changing her medication?"

He hesitated.

"I saw him near the pump."

My stomach tightened.

"And?"

"I asked what he was doing."

"What did he say?"

"He told me the care plan had changed."

I closed my eyes.

"Did you believe him?"

"At first."

I swallowed.

"Then?"

Matteo's voice became rough.

"Your mother called me into the hallway."

I stopped breathing.

"Mom?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

He hesitated.

Then whispered:

"She asked me to promise I'd protect you."

Tears filled my eyes.

Matteo continued.

"She said if anything happened to her, Domenico would come looking for her records."

I covered my mouth.

"And?"

"I told her I'd help."

I looked down.

"You didn't."

Matteo's silence answered everything.

Then he said:

"No."

His voice broke.

"I failed her."

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then he continued.

"I thought I could handle it through the family."

I closed my eyes.

"And your uncle?"

"He told me Vescari was following medical orders."

"Did you check?"

"No."

My stomach twisted.

He sounded devastated.

But grief wasn't evidence of innocence.

I needed more.

"I want you to cooperate fully with the investigators."

"I already am."

"Everything, Matteo."

"Everything."

I believed he meant it.

But I still didn't trust him.

Not yet.

The following week, investigators interviewed several former clinic employees.

Records were examined.

Financial transfers traced.

And Dr. Vescari's role came under formal scrutiny.

Meanwhile, Lucia remained missing.

Carlo blamed himself.

Matteo barely slept.

I returned to my apartment only after repairs and security arrangements were completed.

My taped shoe finally broke completely.

I stood in the kitchen holding it.

For some reason, I began laughing.

Then crying.

Three weeks earlier, forty-five dollars had seemed impossible.

Now I was caught in a conspiracy involving millions, missing people, and my mother's death.

And all I wanted was one ordinary morning.

One morning when nobody threatened me.

Nobody lied.

Nobody needed rescuing.

Then my phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

A photograph appeared.

Lucia.

Alive.

Sitting beside a window.

Her wrists appeared restrained.

Beneath the photograph was a message.

Tell Matteo to stop searching.

I stared.

Another message followed.

Or his sister disappears forever.

My hands trembled.

Then a third image appeared.

A small girl sitting beside a suitcase.

Dark curls.

A frightened face.

Isabella.

Lucia's daughter.

I stopped breathing.

Beneath the photograph were six words.

The child is next.

I immediately forwarded everything to investigators.

Then called Matteo.

He answered.

"Tessa?"

My voice broke.

"They have Isabella."

Silence.

Then Matteo whispered:

"No."

His breathing changed.

I could hear the terror.

For the first time, the feared mafia boss sounded completely helpless.

Then he said:

"There's something I never told you."

I closed my eyes.

"What?"

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He swallowed.

"The night Lucia disappeared, I helped my grandfather destroy a security recording. And I think that recording showed who took her."