Chapter 2 – A Child’s Drawing Of A Monster

The heavy oak front doors of the Moretti estate swung open, letting in the cold autumn rain.

I didn’t wait for Daniel to bring the truck around. I couldn’t. I ran down the marble steps in my uniform, the rain instantly soaking through my black apron and graying hair.

“Mom, wait!” Matthew yelled, running after me. Luca and Daniel followed closely behind. Even Teresa stepped out onto the sheltered portico, watching us with her hands pressed over her heart.

The security gates were fifty yards down the winding driveway. Through the downpour, I saw a rusted blue pickup truck parked by the stone pillars. The headlights were off. It looked so small and fragile against the towering wrought-iron gates of the mafia boss’s estate.

When we reached the truck, Matthew pulled open the passenger side door.

The interior dome light flickered on.

Sitting in the center of the bench seat was a little girl.

She had Matthew’s dark, curly hair and my late husband’s bright hazel eyes. She was wearing a faded pink puffer jacket that was slightly too big for her, her small legs dangling off the edge of the seat.

When she saw the door open, she flinched, clutching a piece of crumpled paper to her chest.

“Daddy!” she cried, scrambling across the seat to throw her arms around Matthew’s neck.

Matthew buried his face in her curls, his broad shoulders shaking. “It’s okay, bug. I’m here. Daddy’s here.”

I stood in the rain, my breath catching in my throat.

I was looking at my granddaughter.

She was beautiful. She was perfect. And she had been sitting in the cold darkness while a woman in a diamond necklace broke the basil plant her father had grown for me.

Matthew gently pulled back and pointed to me.

“Lily,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears. “Do you remember who I told you we were coming to see?”

Lily blinked, her big hazel eyes staring at me through the rain.

“The lady who makes the best cookies?” she asked in a tiny voice. “My Grandma Ellen?”

A sob tore out of my throat. I couldn’t stop it.

“Yes, sweetheart,” I wept, reaching out a trembling hand. “I’m your Grandma Ellen.”

Lily looked at my hand, then at my tear-streaked face. Slowly, she reached out her own little fingers and touched mine. Her hand was so warm.

“Daddy says you have a magic kitchen,” she whispered.

“I do,” I promised, crying and smiling at the same time. “And tomorrow, we’re going to bake every single cookie in the world. Just for you.”

Luca stepped up beside me, holding a large black umbrella to shield us from the rain. He looked down at the little girl, his hard, authoritative features softening into something deeply protective.

“Let’s get her inside, Matthew,” Luca said quietly. “She’s freezing.”

Matthew wrapped Lily in his arms and carried her out of the truck. We walked quickly back up the driveway, enveloped in the shelter of Luca’s umbrella.

When we entered the grand foyer, the warmth of the house washed over us. The engagement guests had awkwardly scattered into the adjacent lounge, murmuring among themselves. But Vanessa was still standing at the edge of the dining room, her arms crossed, her face flushed with indignant rage.

The moment Lily saw Vanessa, the little girl gasped.

She buried her face into Matthew’s neck and began to tremble violently.

“Lily?” Matthew asked, feeling her shake. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Lily peeked over her father’s shoulder, her little finger pointing directly at Vanessa.

“Daddy,” she whimpered, her voice filled with pure terror. “That’s the mean lady. The one who came to our house today.”

The foyer went dead silent.

Vanessa’s face lost all its color. “The child is confused,” she snapped quickly. “I’ve never been to his filthy apartment.”

But Lily was already holding out the crumpled piece of paper she had been clutching in the truck.

“She took my mommy’s sparkly thing,” Lily cried, her chin trembling. “She said if you didn’t do what she wanted, the police would come take me away. So I drew a picture of her. To show the police she’s a monster.”

I took the paper from my granddaughter’s shaking hands.

It was a child’s crayon drawing. It depicted a woman with yellow hair and an angry red mouth, standing next to a little girl crying.

But it wasn’t just a drawing.

Lily had drawn the woman holding something specific. A silver bracelet with little star charms.

My blood turned to ice.

I knew that bracelet. It had belonged to Matthew’s late wife, Sarah. It was the only thing of value Matthew had kept after she died. He swore to me he would save it for his daughter one day.

“She took your bracelet, sweetheart?” I asked gently.

Lily nodded, wiping her nose. “She came into our house when Daddy was getting his coat. She took it off the shelf. She told Daddy it was a deposit. So he wouldn’t come here tonight.”

I slowly turned to look at Vanessa.

She hadn’t just threatened my son at the gate. She had gone to his home. She had stolen a dead mother’s heirloom from a five-year-old child to use as leverage.

Vanessa took a step back, her eyes darting nervously to Luca. “The child is a liar! Just like her father! She’s making it up!”

“Is she?” Luca asked softly.

Without breaking eye contact with Vanessa, Luca reached out and grabbed her left wrist. He pulled her arm forward and forcefully pushed up the sleeve of her red satin gown.

There, clamped tightly around Vanessa’s wrist, was a tarnished silver bracelet adorned with little star charms.