Chapter 5 - THE GIRL WHO VANISHED BEHIND THE CHAPEL
Matteo Moretti had spent eleven years refusing to speak his sister's name.
Now he sat across from me in his attorney's conference room, holding a photograph of a girl with dark curls and a mischievous smile.
Lucia Moretti.
Seventeen years old when she vanished.
A talented violinist.
A lover of books.
A girl who wanted to study literature instead of marrying someone chosen by her family.
I studied the photograph.
She looked nothing like Matteo.
Except for her eyes.
The same serious, almost wounded expression.
"What happened that night?" I asked.
Matteo looked down.
"There was a family dinner."
"At the chapel?"
"Our estate has a private chapel beside the gardens."
He paused.
"Lucia argued with our grandfather."
"About what?"
"His business."
I nodded slowly.
"She wanted to leave?"
"Yes."
Matteo's voice tightened.
"She said she had evidence of criminal activity."
My stomach dropped.
"Medical transfers?"
He looked up.
"Possibly."
I thought about my mother's notebook.
The six suspicious deaths.
The hidden financial records.
The chapel.
Everything seemed to connect.
Matteo continued.
"After dinner, Lucia disappeared."
"Did anyone search?"
"Everyone."
"Police?"
"Yes."
"Did they find anything?"
He lowered his eyes.
"Her violin case."
I frowned.
"Where?"
"Behind the chapel."
A strange thought struck me.
"Was the violin inside?"
Matteo stared.
"No."
"Did anyone ever find it?"
He shook his head.
I leaned forward.
"My mother taught me something about musicians."
He looked confused.
"What?"
"They often hide personal notes in instrument cases."
Matteo's expression changed.
"Lucia kept a journal."
My heart quickened.
"Was it found?"
"No."
I thought about Professor Bellini.
My mother.
The years in Florence.
Then a memory returned.
During my second semester, Professor Bellini had shown me an old violin.
He said it belonged to a student who had disappeared.
At the time, I assumed he meant she'd stopped attending lessons.
But now I remembered the instrument.
Dark polished wood.
A small silver rose engraved near the neck.
I looked toward Matteo.
"Did Lucia's violin have an engraving?"
He nodded.
"A silver rose."
My breath caught.
"I've seen it."
Matteo stood.
"Where?"
"In Florence."
He stared.
"Are you sure?"
"Professor Bellini kept it in his study."
For the first time, Matteo looked genuinely shaken.
"My sister's violin?"
I nodded.
He pressed a hand against the table.
Then whispered:
"She loved that instrument."
I thought about the old professor.
Why would he keep Lucia's violin?
Why had he never mentioned the Moretti name?
And why had my mother studied the same dialects Lucia reportedly loved?
Before I could ask, Matteo's attorney entered.
Her name was Sofia Marquez.
She looked troubled.
"Matteo, we've received a statement from a former employee."
He turned.
"What employee?"
"A groundskeeper who worked at the estate the night Lucia disappeared."
Matteo went still.
"What did he say?"
Sofia opened her folder.
Then answered:
"He saw Lucia leave the chapel with another woman."
My heart hammered.
"Who?"
Sofia looked directly at me.
May you like
Then whispered:
"Your mother, Evelyn Carter."
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