Chapter 4 — Sophia’s Terrible Secret
Chapter 4 — Sophia’s Terrible Secret
Sophia Rossi had spent eight months running from one question.
Not who had taken Isabella.
Not who had taken the baby.
Not even who had ordered the crash.
The question that haunted her was simpler.
Why had Isabella trusted her daughter?
Because Emma had not been supposed to know anything.
She was three years old.
She had been born into an ordinary family.
She had never met Lorenzo before the night of the memorial.
At least, that was the story Sophia had told herself.
The truth was much worse.
Emma had been there the night Isabella disappeared.
She had seen the car.
She had seen the woman in the red coat.
And she had heard Isabella say one sentence that Sophia had spent eight months praying her daughter would forget.
“Tell him the baby is alive.”
Sophia drove without headlights.
The old sedan moved through the darkness along the narrow road outside New York.
Emma slept in the back seat.
Her gray rabbit was tucked beneath her chin.
Sophia checked the rearview mirror.
Nothing.
No headlights.
No black SUVs.
No men following them.
Still, she kept driving.
She had learned long ago that seeing no one didn't mean no one was there.
At the next intersection, she turned onto an unmarked road.
Then another.
Finally, she stopped beside an abandoned church.
Emma stirred.
“Mommy?”
Sophia immediately turned.
“I'm here.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Is Mr. Lorenzo coming?”
Sophia's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“No.”
Emma frowned.
“Why?”
“Because he can't.”
The little girl looked out the window.
“He looks sad.”
Sophia swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Like Mommy.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
She couldn't explain.
Not to a three-year-old.
Not yet.
She couldn't tell Emma that the sad man she'd watched from the servants' corridors for eight months was the father of a child who had once been placed in her arms.
She couldn't tell her that Isabella had trusted Sophia with the biggest secret of her life.
And she definitely couldn't tell her what Emma herself had seen.
Because once Emma remembered everything, there would be no going back.
Sophia entered the church through a side door.
The building had been abandoned for years.
Dust covered the wooden pews.
A broken stained-glass window allowed moonlight to spill across the floor.
Emma clung to her mother's hand.
“It's cold.”
“I know.”
Sophia carried her toward the altar.
Behind it was a small wooden door.
She unlocked it.
A narrow staircase descended beneath the church.
Emma looked down.
“What's there?”
“Someone who can help us.”
“Who?”
Sophia didn't answer.
They descended.
At the bottom was a small room.
A lantern burned in the corner.
A man sat at a table.
He was in his seventies.
White hair.
A scar across his cheek.
He stood when Sophia entered.
“You brought her.”
Sophia nodded.
“I had no choice.”
The old man looked at Emma.
His face softened.
“Hello, little one.”
Emma hid behind Sophia.
“Don't be afraid,” the man said.
“What is your name?”
Emma whispered:
“Emma.”
The man smiled.
“I know.”
Sophia stiffened.
“How?”
The man looked at her.
“Because I was there.”
Sophia's blood ran cold.
“You said you weren't.”
“I said Lorenzo couldn't know.”
“You knew this would happen.”
“I knew it was possible.”
Sophia stepped closer.
“You knew they would come for her?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you warn me?”
“Because you would have taken Emma and run.”
Sophia stared.
“I did take her and run.”
The man shook his head.
“You ran eight months too late.”
His name was Father Matteo.
But Sophia knew him by another name.
Thomas Bell.
He had once been Lorenzo's father's closest adviser.
He had disappeared after the elder DeLuca's death.
Everyone believed he had been murdered.
He hadn't.
He had been hiding.
And he knew the truth about the family.
Sophia sat across from him.
“What did Isabella tell you?”
Matteo looked toward Emma.
“Not everything.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That the baby would have to disappear.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“No.”
Matteo shook his head.
“You don't know the reason.”
Sophia looked at him.
“Then tell me.”
Matteo leaned forward.
“Isabella didn't disappear because someone wanted to kill her.”
“Then why?”
“Because she discovered who was trying to take the baby.”
Sophia's heart tightened.
“Who?”
Matteo's expression became grim.
“Your husband.”
Sophia froze.
“My husband is dead.”
“Yes.”
“He died before Emma was born.”
Matteo nodded.
“Officially.”
Sophia stared at him.
“You're saying Carlo is alive?”
“No.”
“Then what do you mean?”
Matteo opened a drawer.
Inside was a photograph.
Sophia recognized the man immediately.
Carlo Rossi.
Her husband.
Standing beside Isabella.
But the photograph had been taken only three weeks before his supposed death.
Sophia's hands began shaking.
“That isn't possible.”
“It is.”
“When was this taken?”
“Two days before the crash.”
Sophia stared.
Carlo was smiling.
Isabella stood beside him.
And between them was a newborn carrier.
A baby.
Sophia looked up.
“Whose baby?”
Matteo didn't answer.
She already knew.
“Isabella's.”
“Yes.”
“Why was Carlo with her?”
Matteo took a breath.
“Because Carlo was working for her.”
Sophia felt sick.
“My husband worked for Isabella?”
“He worked for your family.”
“My family?”
Matteo nodded.
“Carlo wasn't a simple driver.”
Sophia stared at the photograph.
“What was he?”
“A security operative.”
“For whom?”
Matteo looked toward Emma.
“For the DeLucas.”
Sophia stood so quickly that the chair fell backward.
“No.”
“It's true.”
“My husband hated Lorenzo.”
“He pretended to.”
“He told me the DeLucas destroyed his family.”
“They did.”
“Then why work for them?”
“Because he was protecting someone.”
Sophia looked at Emma.
“Who?”
Matteo's silence answered her.
Sophia felt her knees weaken.
“My daughter?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“Not Emma.”
Sophia stared.
“Then who?”
“The baby.”
Sophia's face went white.
“Isabella's daughter.”
The memory returned.
Eight months earlier.
Sophia had been in the DeLuca kitchen when the phone rang.
She remembered Isabella's voice.
Urgent.
Terrified.
“Come upstairs.”
Sophia had run.
Isabella was standing beside the nursery.
The baby was in her arms.
Three days old.
Beautiful.
Tiny.
Alive.
Beside her stood Carlo.
Sophia remembered looking at him.
“What is happening?”
Isabella had closed the door.
“Someone is coming.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Carlo had said:
“We don't have much time.”
Isabella looked at Sophia.
“I need you to do something.”
“What?”
“Take Emma.”
Sophia had frowned.
“Why?”
“Because if they see her, they'll know.”
“Know what?”
“That you are involved.”
Sophia had taken Emma from the hallway.
Then Isabella had placed the baby into Sophia's arms.
The tiny girl had opened her eyes.
Sophia had never forgotten those eyes.
Isabella whispered:
“Don't let anyone know she exists.”
Sophia had stared.
“What?”
“If they find her, they'll use her against Lorenzo.”
“Who?”
Isabella's voice broke.
“Everyone.”
Then she looked at Carlo.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“I'll get them to the safe route.”
Isabella kissed her daughter.
Then handed the baby to Sophia.
“Take her.”
Sophia's hands shook.
“Where?”
“Someone will come.”
“Who?”
“Lorenzo's father trusted him.”
Sophia didn't understand.
“What about you?”
Isabella smiled sadly.
“I'll make sure they follow me.”
Sophia had cried.
“No.”
Isabella touched her cheek.
“Listen to me.”
Then she whispered:
“If Lorenzo asks…”
Sophia remembered the words.
“If Lorenzo asks where his daughter is…”
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
“Tell him she died.”
Sophia opened her eyes.
Matteo was watching her.
“You knew,” he said.
Sophia nodded.
“I knew the baby was alive.”
“You knew Isabella was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the crash.”
“Yes.”
“You knew the coffin was empty.”
Sophia couldn't speak.
Matteo continued.
“And you lied to Lorenzo.”
Sophia looked at Emma.
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because Isabella asked me.”
Matteo's voice softened.
“And now?”
Sophia whispered:
“Now I'm afraid Isabella was wrong.”
Emma suddenly woke.
“Mommy?”
Sophia turned.
“Yes?”
The little girl pointed toward the wall.
“There.”
Sophia frowned.
“What?”
Emma pointed again.
“The lady.”
Sophia looked.
Nothing.
Then Emma said:
“She was there.”
Sophia's heart stopped.
“Who?”
“The red lady.”
Matteo immediately stood.
“What did she look like?”
Emma hugged her rabbit.
“Pretty.”
“What color was her hair?”
“Black.”
“Her eyes?”
“Green.”
Sophia's face drained.
“Mara.”
Matteo looked at her.
“You know her?”
Sophia nodded.
“She was at the crash.”
“Did Emma see her?”
Sophia looked at her daughter.
“Yes.”
“Then she remembers.”
Sophia's throat tightened.
“Only pieces.”
Matteo walked toward Emma.
“Emma.”
The child looked up.
“Do you remember a car?”
Emma nodded.
“A black car?”
Another nod.
“A lady?”
“Yes.”
“What did she do?”
Emma frowned.
“She talked to Mommy.”
Sophia knelt beside her.
“What did Mommy say?”
Emma looked confused.
“She said…”
The child paused.
Sophia waited.
“She said the baby was sleeping.”
Matteo exchanged a glance with Sophia.
“What else?”
Emma hugged the rabbit.
“She said…”
Her eyes suddenly widened.
“She said, 'Don't let Daddy find us.'”
Sophia's heart shattered.
“Who did she say that to?”
Emma pointed toward the empty doorway.
“To her.”
Sophia turned.
Nobody stood there.
Then she heard footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Above them.
Matteo grabbed a weapon from beneath the table.
“Someone followed you.”
Sophia pulled Emma close.
“Who?”
Matteo shook his head.
“I don't know.”
The footsteps stopped.
A door opened upstairs.
Then another.
Someone was searching the church.
Matteo extinguished the lantern.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Emma began to whimper.
Sophia covered her mouth gently.
“Shh.”
A voice came from above.
“Mr. Bell?”
Matteo's face hardened.
He recognized the voice.
Sophia whispered:
“Who is it?”
He didn't answer.
The voice came again.
“Father Matteo, we know you're down there.”
Sophia's blood turned cold.
The man continued.
“We know you have the girl.”
Matteo looked at Emma.
Sophia's arms tightened around her.
The footsteps began descending.
One step.
Then another.
Then another.
Matteo whispered:
“There's a tunnel behind the wall.”
Sophia shook her head.
“Where does it lead?”
“Three blocks away.”
“Then let's go.”
He moved toward a hidden panel.
But before he could open it—
A gunshot exploded upstairs.
Then another.
Then a scream.
Silence.
Matteo froze.
Sophia held Emma against her chest.
“Who's shooting?”
Matteo slowly opened the panel.
A cold draft rushed into the room.
“I don't know.”
Then a man's voice came through the darkness.
“Father Matteo.”
Sophia recognized it.
Her blood froze.
Lorenzo.
He had found them.
The tunnel entrance opened.
Lorenzo stood on the other side, gun raised.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then his eyes found Sophia.
Then Emma.
Then the old man.
Lorenzo lowered the weapon.
“Sophia.”
She stepped backward.
“Don't.”
His eyes moved to the little girl.
“Is that Emma?”
Sophia nodded.
“She's safe.”
Lorenzo stared at her.
“Why did you run?”
Sophia swallowed.
“Because you were being watched.”
“By whom?”
She didn't answer.
“Sophia.”
“I can't.”
“You owe me the truth.”
She looked at him.
“I owe Isabella.”
Lorenzo's face hardened.
“Then tell me what she told you.”
Sophia's eyes filled with tears.
“She told me to lie.”
“About what?”
Sophia looked at Emma.
Then back at Lorenzo.
“About your daughter.”
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“What did Isabella want me to believe?”
“That the baby died.”
His jaw tightened.
“And she didn't.”
“No.”
“Where is she?”
Sophia closed her eyes.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
“Then why did you tell Emma to say four words to me at the memorial?”
Sophia stared.
“What four words?”
Lorenzo's expression changed.
“Your daughter is still alive.”
Sophia went completely still.
“I never taught Emma those words.”
Lorenzo looked at Emma.
The little girl was staring at him.
Then she slowly pointed toward the tunnel.
“Daddy?”
Lorenzo froze.
Emma smiled.
“You found us.”
Sophia's face went white.
Lorenzo whispered:
“Who taught you that word?”
Emma pointed behind him.
At the darkness.
A woman's voice answered.
“I did.”
Everyone turned.
A figure stepped out of the shadows.
Black hair.
Green eyes.
A silver swallow necklace.
Sophia stopped breathing.
Lorenzo's hand tightened around his gun.
The woman looked at him.
And smiled.
“Hello, Lorenzo.”
He stared at her.
“Isabella?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
She touched the silver swallow around her neck.
“I was the woman who lied about the crash.”
Her eyes moved toward Emma.
“And now you finally know why.”
Sophia whispered one word.
“Mara.”
The woman smiled.
“Yes.”
Then she looked at Lorenzo.
“Your daughter is alive.”
Lorenzo couldn't breathe.
“Where?”
Mara's smile disappeared.
“That's the part you're not going to like.”
She stepped closer.
“Because Isabella never intended to give her back to you.”
Lorenzo's face hardened.
“Why?”
Mara's eyes filled with something almost like pity.
“Because your daughter isn't the only child Isabella saved that night.”
She looked toward Sophia.
“And Sophia knows where the others are.”
The room fell silent.
Lorenzo turned toward Sophia.
“What others?”
Sophia closed her eyes.
She had spent eight months protecting one secret.
Now she realized it had never been one secret.
May you like
It was an entire graveyard of them.
And every secret had a child's name.
