Chapter 9

“Of course Mommy can still have a place here.”

Luca answered without hesitation.

But Sophie kept studying the empty chair.

“Even if you get married someday?”

He looked at her carefully.

“Yes.”

“What if your wife doesn’t like seeing Mommy’s pictures?”

Luca took a breath.

“Then she wouldn’t be the right person for our family.”

Sophie nodded.

But she still looked worried.

I could understand why.

For two years, the little girl had been learning how to live without her mother.

Now she’d discovered that someone else had been trying to convince her she had to live without her uncle too.

A single evening couldn’t erase that fear.

Luca pulled the empty chair closer.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Sophie touched the edge of the white tablecloth.

“Sometimes I think everybody’s going to forget Mommy.”

Luca’s face softened.

“I won’t.”

“But you don’t talk about her very much anymore.”

He looked surprised.

“Does that bother you?”

She nodded.

“I thought you stopped because she made you sad.”

Luca glanced at Julia’s photograph.

“Sometimes talking about her does make me sad.”

Sophie looked down.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

He pulled his chair closer.

“I stopped talking about Julia so much because I thought hearing her name made you sad.”

Sophie shook her head.

“It makes me sad when nobody says it.”

Those words seemed to reach somewhere deep inside him.

He sat quietly for a moment.

Then he smiled.

“Did your mother ever tell you what happened when she tried to make me a birthday cake?”

Sophie looked up.

“She was fourteen. I was sixteen.”

“Did she burn it?”

“Worse.”

“What happened?”

“She used salt instead of sugar.”

Sophie laughed.

“All of it?”

“Every bit.”

“And you ate it?”

“I tried.”

She laughed harder.

Luca smiled through his tears.

“Your mother insisted it was an excellent cake. She said I just didn’t appreciate her cooking.”

For a few precious seconds, the dining room felt different.

Not because Julia had returned.

But because her memory no longer belonged only to grief.

Sophie leaned against her uncle.

“I like when you tell me things like that.”

“Then I’ll tell you more.”

Madame Fournier watched them with a gentle expression.

“I think your mother would have enjoyed hearing you laugh, Sophie.”

The girl nodded.

“She was funny.”

“She sounds like it.”

Luca looked at the chair.

“We can keep her photograph here whenever you want.”

Sophie thought about it.

“Maybe not every day.”

“Why not?”

“Because sometimes I want to talk about normal things too.”

He smiled.

“That sounds good to me.”

“Like my play.”

“Especially your play.”

“And pancakes.”

“We can probably arrange pancakes.”

She grinned.

The guests had begun leaving quietly, offering brief goodbyes rather than long explanations.

Nobody asked Sophie to repeat what had happened.

I was grateful for that.

But while the room grew quieter, Mrs. Carter approached Luca.

“Mr. Moretti, may I speak to you about the staff?”

He looked up.

“Of course.”

She glanced at me.

“Several people were frightened by what happened tonight.”

Luca’s expression hardened.

“Has anyone else been treated the way Emily was?”

Mrs. Carter hesitated.

“Not exactly.”

“Tell me.”

“Mrs. Bellini often reminded employees that their positions depended on keeping family matters private.”

Luca nodded slowly.

“That sounds reasonable until someone uses it to prevent people from reporting harm.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mrs. Carter took a breath.

“And some employees believed you preferred not to be bothered with household concerns.”

The words were careful.

But they were honest.

Luca didn’t look away.

“Did I give them that impression?”

“Sometimes.”

His expression changed.

“I see.”

I watched him absorb the answer.

He could have blamed Vanessa.

Instead, he turned toward me.

“Emily, would you have come directly to me if you hadn’t overheard something about Sophie?”

I thought carefully.

“Probably not, sir.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t think my word would matter against Mrs. Bellini’s.”

He nodded.

“Then I have something to change.”

He asked Mrs. Carter to arrange a staff meeting the next morning.

Not to discuss gossip.

To establish that employees could raise concerns without being threatened with dismissal.

“And no more public humiliation,” he added. “Not for any reason.”

Mrs. Carter nodded firmly.

“Understood.”

Sophie looked at me.

“Emily, are you still going to work here?”

I smiled.

“If Mr. Moretti will have me.”

Luca looked almost offended.

“That isn’t in question.”

Sophie smiled.

“Good.”

Madame Fournier closed the blue folder.

“Before I leave, I would like to apologize to Sophie.”

The girl looked surprised.

“Why?”

“Because adults were making decisions about you, and I should have insisted on hearing your own wishes sooner.”

“But you did ask me.”

“Not soon enough.”

Sophie considered that.

Then she nodded.

“Okay.”

Madame Fournier smiled.

“I hope you won’t let this experience make you dislike French.”

Sophie looked toward me.

“I don’t.”

I smiled back.

“Your pronunciation is already good.”

She looked pleased.

“Could you teach me the right words?”

“Of course.”

Luca laughed softly.

“I think that would be a much better beginning.”

Madame Fournier placed the canceled application beside the old statement Sophie had copied.

Sophie looked down at the page.

The words I have become a burden were still there.

She stared at them for several seconds.

Then she reached toward the place card Luca had used to remember her school play.

“Can I have a pencil?”

I handed her one.

“What would you like to write?”

She looked at the old statement.

Then at her uncle.

Her voice was steadier than it had been all evening.

“I want to write another letter.”

Luca leaned closer.

“To whom?”

Sophie pointed at the blue folder.

“To the school. This time, I want to tell them what I really wanted.”