Chapter 2: A Visit Before the Collapse
“Yes,” Michael said. “I was in Dad’s room earlier that night.”
The admission seemed to change the air in the dining room. A moment ago, the guests had been pretending not to listen. Now their silence had a different weight.
Luca stayed beside his mother. He didn’t raise his voice or move toward his brother.
“What did you want from him?”
Michael glanced at Teresa. “We argued.”
“About the papers?” Teresa asked.
His eyes snapped to her. “You don’t remember what you’re talking about.”
“I remember you asking him to give them to you.”
A murmur passed along the table. Vanessa stood rigid beside Luca’s chair, her fingers curled around the stem of her glass.
Luca looked back at Michael. “What papers?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“He was my father, too.”
“And you weren’t there that night.”
The words struck harder than the volume of Michael’s voice. Luca’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t take the bait.
“No,” he said. “I wasn’t. That’s why I’m asking.”
Teresa’s hand rested on the table beside her plate. It trembled against the white cloth.
“Michael came into the room,” she said. “He was angry. Your father told him he wouldn’t give him what he wanted.”
Michael exhaled sharply. “You were tired. You’d been taking medication.”
“I was his wife.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“You’re saying I can’t remember.”
Michael’s face closed. “I said you were upset.”
Luca drew out the chair beside Teresa and sat. “Mom, you don’t have to keep going if it’s too much.”
She looked at him, then at Michael. “I want to tell you what I remember.”
“All right.”
“He left before your father got sick,” Teresa continued. “I stayed with Giovanni. We talked for a while.”
Michael nodded too quickly. “That’s right. I left.”
“What time?” Luca asked.
“I don’t know. Late.”
“Before he collapsed?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Michael’s eyes hardened. “I’m sure I wasn’t in the room when Dad became ill.”
Teresa lowered her gaze. The silence around her made me want to reach for her hand, but I waited. She had spent too much of the evening being moved, corrected, and spoken for.
“After Michael left, I stayed with your father,” she said. “He was tired. We talked about what he wanted to do next.”
“What did he want to do?” Luca asked.
“I can’t remember all of it.”
“That’s okay.”
“He said things were going to change.”
Michael shifted in his chair. “Mom—”
“No,” Luca said, still quiet. “Let her finish.”
Teresa pressed her lips together, trying to gather the memory. I could see how much effort it took: her brow drawn tight, her fingers folded into the napkin in her lap.
“He said he had made mistakes,” she murmured. “He said he wanted to put things right.”
Michael looked toward the guests. A man near the far end of the table studied his wineglass. Someone else stared at the closed dining-room doors.
Luca took a measured breath. “And then?”
“Then we talked about the children. He was worried about you.”
“Me?”
“He said you’d been carrying too much. That he didn’t want you to inherit the worst parts of the family.”
Michael pushed back from the table. His chair scraped against the floor.
“Enough. She’s trying to fit old conversations together, and everyone here is treating them like sworn testimony.”
“I’m listening to my mother,” Luca said.
“You’re letting Hannah and Vanessa turn a private family matter into a spectacle.”
At the sound of my name, I felt every guest look my way. My hands were still damp from pouring Teresa’s water. I wiped them discreetly against my apron.
“I didn’t ask Mrs. Moretti to tell me anything,” I said. “She asked me to help her.”
Michael gave me a cold look. “You’re a maid. You don’t know what happened between our father and us.”
“That’s true,” I said. “I know what I heard yesterday, and I know what she’s saying now.”
Luca stood. “This dinner is over.”
Nobody moved.
“I’m sorry,” he continued, turning toward the guests. “You came here to celebrate Vanessa and me. Instead, you’ve been pulled into a family matter that should have been handled privately. Thank you for coming. The staff will help you with your coats and rides.”
His tone was firm, but he didn’t threaten anyone or demand an explanation for their presence. He simply made the decision and gave them a way to leave.
A few guests rose at once. Others hesitated, glancing from Luca to Teresa. She looked embarrassed, as if she thought she had ruined the evening.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Luca told her.
The guests began filing out in small groups. The low murmur of polite goodbyes replaced the earlier silence. One woman paused to squeeze Teresa’s shoulder before following the others. Teresa managed a faint smile.
I stayed beside her chair.
Vanessa didn’t move. When the last guests had left the dining room, she set her untouched glass down.
“Luca, can we talk about this without the staff?”
“Not until we deal with Mom’s ride.”
Her lips parted. “The car was arranged because she agreed to go.”
Teresa lifted her head. “I did not.”
“You told me you needed somewhere quieter.”
“I said I wanted the house quiet. I did not agree to leave.”
Vanessa’s gaze flicked to me, then back to Teresa. “You said the mansion would be too busy after the wedding.”
“I said I was afraid you wouldn’t want me here.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No,” Teresa said. “It isn’t.”
For the first time that evening, Vanessa seemed to have no quick answer. She folded her arms, then unfolded them again.
“The residence is comfortable,” she said. “It’s private. The staff can provide more help than we have here.”
“You arranged it for tonight?” Luca asked.
“I made an inquiry.”
“Did you arrange a car?”
She paused.
“Yes.”
“And you told Mom she was leaving after dinner?”
“I thought it was settled.”
“It wasn’t,” Teresa said.
Vanessa’s face tightened. “You were worried about being a burden. I was trying to give you an option.”
“You said I’d be happier there,” Teresa replied. “You said Luca and I would both have an easier time if I went.”
“I was trying to make the transition easier.”
“For whom?” Luca asked.
Vanessa stared at him. “For everyone. You’re getting married. The house can’t stay exactly as it is forever.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to decide where my mother lives.”
“I didn’t force her into the car.”
“No,” Luca said. “You only made her believe she had no choice.”
Vanessa’s cheeks colored. I saw her glance once toward the doorway, perhaps toward the hall where the driver was waiting. I wondered whether she was thinking of the ring on her finger or the guests who had just left. I couldn’t know. I only knew Teresa was still sitting at the table, afraid to ask what would happen next.
Luca looked toward the dining-room entrance.
“Tell the driver he can go.”
A staff member nodded and left.
Vanessa watched him disappear. “You’re making a scene over a misunderstanding.”
“You threatened Hannah’s job in front of our guests,” Luca said. “You arranged to take my mother out of her home without asking me, and she says she never agreed.”
“I was trying to help.”
“Then you should have asked her what she wanted.”
Vanessa’s eyes dropped. For a second, her expression looked less angry than cornered. She didn’t apologize. She didn’t leave, either.
Luca turned back to Teresa. “Mom, do you want to go anywhere tonight?”
“No.”
“Do you want to stay here?”
She looked down at the tablecloth, then at the room where she had raised her sons. “If I’m allowed.”
The answer hurt more than a dramatic accusation could have. Luca’s face softened.
“You don’t have to earn your place here.”
Teresa swallowed. “I don’t want you to feel you have to keep me because of what happened tonight.”
“I’m not asking you to decide everything tonight,” he said. “I’m asking what you want tonight.”
“I want to sleep in my own room.”
“Then that’s where you’ll sleep.”
I felt my shoulders loosen, though only a little. My mother’s bills would still be waiting at home. My job was still part of an argument I hadn’t started, and no one had told me whether I would have work tomorrow. But at least the car was gone. Teresa wasn’t being taken away.
Luca glanced at me. “Hannah, would you help Mom upstairs when she’s ready?”
“Of course.”
Vanessa gave a short, humorless laugh. “You’re asking the maid to make family decisions now?”
“No,” Luca replied. “I’m asking someone who has been helping my mother all night to keep helping her.”
I looked down. The defense was welcome, but it did not make me feel safe. A person in Luca’s position could protect me in a room full of witnesses and still decide tomorrow that keeping me on the payroll was inconvenient. I knew that. So did Teresa, judging by the troubled look she gave me.
Michael had not left. He stood at the far end of the table, watching his mother.
“What did Dad say about the papers?” Luca asked him.
Michael’s shoulders stiffened.
“I don’t remember.”
“Mom remembers you asking for them.”
“Mom remembers what she can. That doesn’t mean every detail is right.”
Teresa touched her forehead, frustrated. “He told me he had put them somewhere safe.”
“Where?” Luca asked gently.
“I don’t know.” She shut her eyes. “I remember asking why he needed to hide them.”
“And what did he say?”
For a few seconds, she didn’t answer. I heard a staff member closing the front door somewhere beyond the dining room. The last of the guests had gone.
Teresa’s eyes opened.
“He said Michael had been asking him to change something.”
Michael’s expression flickered. Then it was gone.
“Change what?” Luca asked.
“I don’t know. Giovanni said he was done pretending everything was fine.” Teresa’s fingers tightened on her napkin. “He said he’d made a decision, and the papers would show why.”
Luca leaned closer. “What decision?”
May you like
Teresa stared past him, as though she could see the room from four years ago.
“I can’t remember yet,” she whispered. Then she looked at Michael. “But your father said the papers would prove why he changed his plans.”
