Chapter 5 - THE FATHER WHO WASN'T MY FATHER
For twenty-nine years, I had believed my father was a man named James Carter.
He'd died when I was four.
My mother, Elizabeth, had worked two jobs to raise me.
And Agatha had filled the spaces whenever money, time, or exhaustion kept Mom away.
Now I was holding a birth certificate identifying completely different parents.
"Who is Antonio Bellini?" I whispered.
Father Matteo studied me.
"He was a respected shipping engineer in Sicily."
"Was?"
"He vanished shortly after you were born."
I looked at the letter again.
The man who stole you.
My stomach twisted.
"Are you saying I was kidnapped?"
"We believe you were taken during a violent dispute over documents your parents possessed."
I shook my head.
"Why would anyone give me to another family?"
"To hide you."
"From whom?"
He hesitated.
"Carlo Moretti."
The room went silent.
I thought of Carlo's car.
His smile.
His demand to see my necklace.
And the hatred in his eyes when he'd first heard Agatha's name.
"What did Carlo want?"
Father Matteo opened another page.
There was a photograph of a younger Carlo standing beside a warehouse.
On the back, someone had written:
Palermo - August 1997.
"Your father uncovered an international smuggling operation," Father Matteo explained. "Carlo was involved."
"Did Salvatore know?"
"Not everything."
"And Dominic?"
"He was an infant. Whatever happened was before his time."
I closed the book.
"So Agatha hid me all these years?"
"She and Elizabeth protected you."
Tears filled my eyes.
I thought of Mom.
The exhaustion.
The sacrifices.
The nights she'd skipped dinner because there wasn't enough food.
She had raised a child who wasn't biologically hers.
And she'd loved me as though nothing in the world could change that.
"Did she know the truth?"
Father Matteo nodded.
"Yes."
I pressed a hand against my mouth.
Mom had died five years earlier.
I could never ask why she'd kept the secret.
A knock interrupted us.
Father Matteo stiffened.
Nobody was supposed to know I was there.
He approached the door cautiously.
"Who is it?"
A familiar voice answered.
"Dominic Moretti."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Father Matteo looked at me.
I shook my head.
"Don't."
Dominic spoke again.
"Penelope, I know you're inside. I'm not here to force you to do anything."
I hesitated.
Then he added something unexpected.
"The police found Agatha."
I rushed toward the door.
"Is she alive?"
A pause.
"Yes."
I nearly collapsed with relief.
"Where is she?"
"At a private medical facility. She's injured, but conscious."
I reached for the handle.
Then Dominic said the words that stopped me.
"Penelope, before you open this door, there's something you should know."
"What?"
"My father just confessed that he helped Agatha take a baby girl out of Sicily twenty-nine years ago."
My fingers froze.
May you like
Dominic continued.
"And he says that baby was you."
Related Stories
