Chapter 12
Sophia had once described her as beautiful, difficult, and absolutely devoted to her children.
There were photographs of her throughout the older Moretti properties.
Dark hair.
Elegant clothes.
Dante’s eyes.
But according to Marco, one active security credential still carried her name.
“Why?”
I asked the question in Dante’s office twenty minutes later.
He stood behind his desk.
“Sentiment.”
I stared at him.
“Try again.”
His jaw tightened.
“My father created the credential when the system was installed. After she died, I never deleted it.”
“Can it still open doors?”
“No.”
Marco answered from beside me.
“At least it shouldn’t.”
“Shouldn’t?”
“The credential was deactivated.”
I folded my arms.
“And yet?”
Marco placed a tablet on the desk.
“At 5:52 tonight, Lucia Moretti’s credential opened the private stairwell.”
Nobody spoke.
I looked at Dante.
For perhaps the first time since I had known him, he looked genuinely disturbed.
Not angry.
Disturbed.
“Could Carlo have copied it?”
Dante asked.
Marco shook his head.
“Carlo never had access to the original system.”
“Who did?”
“Your father.”
Dead.
“Your mother.”
Dead.
“You.”
Standing beside us.
“And Sophia.”
Dante picked up his phone.
“Bring Sophia here.”
---
Sophia arrived furious.
Then she saw the photograph.
Her anger disappeared.
She sat down.
“That’s not possible.”
Dante watched her.
“When did you last use my mother’s credential?”
“I haven’t touched it in fifteen years.”
“Did you know it still existed?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know it could access the stairwell?”
“No.”
Sophia picked up the photograph.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
I noticed.
“So what does the message mean?”
I asked.
Sophia looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
“The wrong thief paid the price.”
“I can read, Isabella.”
“Then help me understand.”
Her gaze shifted toward Dante.
That was when I knew.
There was something they had not told me.
Dante saw it too.
“Aunt Sophia.”
“Leave it alone.”
His expression hardened.
“That stopped being an option when someone entered my bedroom.”
Sophia stood.
“This family has survived because some things stayed buried.”
“And nearly destroyed itself for the same reason.”
Her face changed.
Dante stepped closer.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Sophia looked at him for a long time.
Then she whispered:
“Your mother didn’t die from an illness.”
Silence.
Dante stopped breathing.
I stared at Sophia.
“What?”
His voice was barely audible.
Sophia’s eyes filled with tears.
“She was accused of stealing.”
The room went cold.