Chapter 5 – The Empty Collar
The house felt different the next morning.
The heavy, oppressive tension that Vanessa had brought with her was gone. Sunlight poured through the tall windows of the dining room.
I walked in carrying a silver tray with Teresa’s breakfast.
For the first time in a month, Teresa was sitting at the grand dining table instead of in the kitchen.
And right beside her chair, sleeping peacefully on a brand-new, thick orthopedic rug, was Duke.
“Good morning, Hannah,” Teresa said, her eyes bright.
“Good morning, Mrs. Moretti.” I set the tray down. “How did Duke sleep?”
“Like a puppy,” she smiled. “Luca came down at two in the morning just to check on him. He brought him a piece of steak.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
Suddenly, small footsteps padded down the hall. Leo ran into the dining room, clutching his favorite toy car.
“Morning, Miss Teresa!” he chirped.
“Good morning, my brave boy,” Teresa said, offering him a piece of toast.
Luca walked in a moment later, dressed in a casual grey sweater and jeans. He looked rested for the first time since I’d met him.
He ruffled Leo’s hair. “You ready to help me in the garden today, kid?”
Leo nodded enthusiastically.
Luca looked at me. “Take the day off, Hannah. Relax. You’re not a maid anymore.”
I blinked. “Sir?”
“You protected my family,” Luca said simply. “I meant what I said yesterday. You and Leo live here now. I’ve already set up an education trust for him. You can manage the estate staff, but you don’t scrub floors anymore.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll stay.”
I looked at Leo, who was happily feeding Duke a tiny crumb of bread. “We’ll stay.”
Later that afternoon, while Leo and Luca were outside, I helped Teresa organize Frank’s old study.
We were sorting through a box of old photographs when Teresa suddenly gasped.
She pulled out a small, faded leather dog collar.
It was tiny. Meant for a puppy. Attached to it was a small brass tag that read: Buster.
“Mrs. Moretti?” I asked. “Whose collar is that?”
Teresa’s hands shook as she traced the letters.
“Before Frank and I had Luca,” she whispered, “we had a daughter. Elena.”
I stopped moving. “I didn’t know Luca had a sister.”
“Nobody talks about her,” Teresa said, a tear slipping down her cheek. “She died when she was six. Leukemia.”
She held the tiny collar to her chest. “Buster was her puppy. When Elena passed, Buster just… faded away. He died of a broken heart a month later. Frank never forgave himself for not being able to save them.”
I sat beside her, gently putting my arm around her frail shoulders.
“That’s why Frank brought Duke home twenty years later,” Teresa cried softly. “He said a house wasn’t a home without a dog’s heartbeat.”
I realized then why Vanessa’s cruelty toward Duke had been so devastating. Duke wasn’t just a pet. He was the living symbol of Frank’s healed heart.
“Luca doesn’t know,” Teresa whispered. “He was born a year after Elena died. We never told him. We wanted to protect him from the grief.”
Before I could reply, the study door pushed open.
Luca stood there, dirt on his jeans, holding a small silver bracelet he’d dug up in the garden.
He stared at the tiny collar in his mother’s hands.
“Mom,” Luca said, his voice cracking. “Who is Elena?”
Share
