Chapter 3 - THE NOTE ELENA KEPT
Vincent drove Elena to her apartment under escort.
Luca remained at the estate with Maya.
He told himself the arrangement was about security.
The truth was more complicated.
Every time Maya laughed, he felt twelve missing years pressing against his chest.
Her first word.
Her first step.
Her first day of school.
Birthdays he never knew existed.
Elena had carried all of them alone.
Maya sat on the floor beside his wheelchair.
“Are you really my dad?”
Elena had told her that morning.
There had been no dramatic speech.
Only the truth.
Luca looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“Not until yesterday.”
She absorbed that.
“So you didn’t leave me.”
“No.”
“Did you leave Mom?”
Luca paused.
“I disappeared from her life.”
“That sounds like leaving.”
Children had an irritating talent for accuracy.
“I didn’t understand what was happening to me.”
Maya nodded slowly.
“Mom said people can hurt you without wanting to.”
Luca looked away.
“Yes.”
An hour later, Elena returned carrying a small metal box.
Inside were photographs, Maya’s hospital bracelet, old rent receipts, and the note.
Luca unfolded it.
FORGET LUCA.
YOU NEVER KNEW HIM.
IF YOU CONTACT HIM, YOU WILL REGRET IT.
There was no signature.
But the handwriting immediately bothered him.
He had seen those block letters before.
Vincent photographed the note and sent it for analysis.
Elena reached deeper into the box.
“There was something else.”
She produced an old business card.
DR. SAMUEL BELL.
Neurology and Vascular Medicine.
Luca recognized the name.
Bell had been the first neurologist to diagnose his supposed stroke.
“He came to see me.”
Luca looked sharply at her.
“When?”
“About three months after you disappeared.”
Bell had arrived unexpectedly at Elena’s apartment.
He told her Luca had suffered a catastrophic medical event and could not see anyone.
When Elena asked where he was being treated, Bell refused to say.
Then he asked whether Luca had ever complained of numbness, dizziness, or weakness during their summer together.
Elena had answered yes.
Luca had occasionally mentioned tingling in his feet.
Bell wrote something down.
Then he left.
Luca felt cold.
His poisoning had begun before his collapse.
Bell had known.
Vincent’s phone rang.
He answered and listened.
His face became unreadable.
“What?”
“The handwriting analysis came back.”
Vincent turned toward Luca.
“It matches documents from your household records.”
“Whose?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Your father’s former attorney.”
Luca stared at him.
“Arthur Costello?”
Vincent nodded.
Arthur was not merely the family attorney.
He was Luca’s uncle.
May you like
And he had died six years ago.
Or at least everyone had believed he had.
