Chapter 10 - THE WARNING FROM A DEAD MOTHERMatteo stared at his wife's handwriting.
For several seconds, he didn't turn the page.
I stood near the desk, unsure whether I should leave him alone.
Then he whispered, "She knew."
Lena leaned forward.
"May I see the notebook?"
Matteo hesitated.
It was one of the few things he'd held that still felt connected to Elise.
Finally, he passed it to her.
She read the page carefully.
Then the next.
And the next.
The room remained silent except for the faint rustle of paper.
When Lena finished, she looked up.
"This appears to be a personal journal, not a legal document. But it may help explain Elise's concerns, and we should preserve it."
Matteo nodded slowly.
"What did she write?"
Lena handed it back.
"You should read it yourself."
He opened the notebook again.
I watched his expression change as he read.
At first, confusion.
Then hurt.
Then something close to shame.
Finally, he spoke.
"Elise believed Marianne was using the family foundation as a source of personal influence."
Lena waited.
"She thought Marianne was placing friends and business associates in positions where they could control funding decisions."
"Did she report financial misconduct?"
"She wanted an independent audit."
He turned another page.
"She was worried about the children's programs."
I frowned.
"What children's programs?"
Matteo looked at me.
"The foundation supports family services, educational programs, medical research, and several child-development centers."
"Bright Harbor?"
He checked the notebook.
"No. That organization appears to have been added later."
He paused.
"Elise was concerned that the foundation treated vulnerable families like numbers."
The words struck me.
I thought of my mother's hospital bills.
Of how Rebecca had studied our financial problems.
Of how carefully someone had calculated the price of my silence.
Matteo continued reading.
Then he stopped.
On the final pages, Elise had written about Leah.
About her first steps.
Her favorite songs.
The way she laughed when her father pretended to sneeze.
There was a photograph tucked between two pages.
Leah as a baby, sitting on Matteo's shoulders.
Elise stood beside them, laughing.
Matteo stared at the picture.
"I remember this day."
His voice was barely audible.
"We went to Central Park. Leah kept reaching for the pigeons."
He smiled through his grief.
"Elise said she wanted her to grow up brave enough to question people."
I looked at him.
"Sounds like she would have been proud of Leah."
His smile disappeared.
"Would she?"
I didn't answer immediately.
He looked up.
"I let strangers frighten our daughter inside our own home."
His voice cracked.
"Elise trusted me to protect her."
I moved a little closer.
"Mr. Duca, you can't change what already happened."
"I know."
"But you can stop pretending your mistakes are smaller than they were. And you can do better tomorrow."
He nodded.
For the first time, he didn't try to defend himself.
He simply accepted the truth.
Later that evening, I found him sitting outside Leah's bedroom.
The door was open.
A soft nightlight glowed inside.
Leah slept beneath her yellow blanket.
Matteo sat on the hallway floor holding Elise's notebook.
I approached quietly.
"Everything okay?"
He looked up.
"She used to ask me to sit beside her bed."
I leaned against the wall.
"When?"
"After her mother died."
He stared toward the doorway.
"Every night. She'd reach for my hand and ask me to stay."
"What happened?"
He swallowed.
"I couldn't bear being in that room."
I said nothing.
"Elise decorated it before Leah was born. The curtains. The little stars on the ceiling. Every time I walked in, I remembered what we'd lost."
His eyes filled.
"So I told the nurses to handle bedtime."
I looked at the sleeping child.
"And Leah lost you at the same time she lost her mother."
He closed his eyes.
"Yes."
The admission seemed to hurt more than anything else he'd said.
After a long moment, he whispered, "Do you think she'll ever trust me again?"
I considered the question.
"Trust isn't something she owes you."
He looked at me.
"It's something you can earn."
He nodded.
I glanced toward Leah.
"Start by staying when she asks you to stay."
He looked down at the notebook.
Then he rose and quietly walked into the bedroom.
He sat beside his daughter's bed.
He didn't touch her.
He didn't wake her.
He simply remained.
I left him there.
The next morning brought another surprise.
A package arrived for me at the penthouse security desk.
No return address.
Inside was a small USB drive and a handwritten note.
I was nanny number seven. I never signed their report either.
My pulse quickened.
Beneath the message was a name.
Asha Rahman.
And a phone number.
I immediately showed Gabriel and Lena.
Neither wanted me plugging an unknown device into my laptop.
Gabriel arranged for it to be examined safely by the forensic team.
Several hours later, Lena called me into the study.
"The device contains video files."
Matteo stood beside her.
"From the penthouse?"
She nodded.
"Apparently recorded during Asha's employment."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What do they show?"
Lena turned the screen toward us.
The first video showed Leah sitting on the living room floor.
She was holding her yellow blanket.
Celeste stood nearby.
"Give me the blanket, Leah."
The child shook her head.
"No."
Celeste reached down and took it anyway.
Leah began crying.
The camera continued recording.
Then Celeste walked toward the hallway.
"Bring her to the blue room," she instructed someone offscreen.
I recognized Rebecca Sloan's voice.
"Should we start the incident recording?"
Celeste answered without hesitation.
"Wait until she begins throwing things."
Matteo gripped the edge of the desk.
Lena stopped the recording.
But there was another file.
A short one.
Recorded later that evening.
The camera faced the doorway of Matteo's study.
Marianne stood beside Celeste.
Her voice was perfectly clear.
"Friday is the deadline. Once the court sees enough evidence, Matteo will have no choice."
Celeste asked, "And the trust?"
Marianne smiled.
"The child's interests will be represented by someone who understands the family business."
There was a pause.
Then Celeste asked a question that made my skin crawl.
"What happens to the nanny if she refuses to sign?"
Marianne answered casually.
"Find out what she needs most."
The video ended.
I stood frozen.
Lena closed the laptop.
For the first time, we had direct evidence connecting Marianne to the manufactured incidents.
But Gabriel was already checking the file information.
His expression changed.
"There's a problem."
Matteo turned.
"What?"
Gabriel pointed to the original recording timestamp.
"This video was made nearly three months ago."
"So?"
He looked directly at me.
"The last nanny who threatened to expose this operation disappeared from the agency's records three months ago."
I felt cold.
"What happened to her?"
May you like
Gabriel's answer was barely above a whisper.
"That's what we need to find out."
Related Stories
