Chapter 8 – THE HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM

The heart monitor beeped steadily in the sterile silence of the hospital room.

It had been four hours since Teresa collapsed on the yacht. The stress, the freezing cold, and the lingering effects of the neuro-sedatives Vanessa had been secretly feeding her had finally overwhelmed her seventy-nine-year-old heart.

Luca sat in the plastic chair beside her bed, holding her hand. He hadn’t moved since the doctors allowed us inside.

Michael was sitting on the small sofa in the corner, holding a sleeping Leo in his arms.

I stood by the window, watching the morning traffic of Chicago wake up, completely oblivious to the chaos we had survived the night before.

A doctor in a white coat walked into the room.

Luca stood up immediately. “How is she?”

The doctor smiled gently. “She’s going to be fine, Mr. Moretti. It was a minor cardiac event triggered by extreme stress. We’ve completely flushed the sedatives from her system. With proper rest, she’ll make a full recovery.”

A collective breath of relief swept through the room.

Michael buried his face in Leo’s hair, crying silently.

Luca slumped back into his chair, pressing his mother’s hand to his lips.

“Thank God,” he whispered.

“She should wake up shortly,” the doctor added before quietly leaving the room.

I walked over and placed my hand on Luca’s shoulder.

He looked up at me. His eyes were red and exhausted, but the heavy, dark shadow that had haunted him for the past eleven months was finally gone.

“You should go home, Hannah,” Luca said softly. “You’ve been awake all night. You need to sleep.”

“I’m not leaving until she wakes up,” I said firmly.

A faint smile crossed his lips. “You’re stubborn.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

An hour later, Teresa’s eyelids began to flutter.

She let out a soft groan, turning her head toward the light.

“Mom?” Luca leaned in.

Teresa opened her eyes. She looked at Luca, then at Michael, then at Leo, who was now wide awake and standing by her bed.

“Grandma,” Leo whispered, his little hand reaching out to touch hers.

Teresa smiled. It wasn’t the uneven, forced smile from the engagement dinner. It was full, warm, and completely lucid.

“Hello, my beautiful boys,” she whispered.

Luca laughed, a broken, joyous sound. “You scared us, Mom.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I think I just needed a nap.”

She looked around the room until her eyes landed on me.

“Hannah.”

I stepped forward. “I’m here, Mrs. Moretti.”

“Did you bring it?” she asked.

I blinked, confused. “Bring what?”

Teresa looked at Luca. “Luca, tell her.”

Luca reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small, white bakery box.

He opened it and placed it on the hospital tray over his mother’s bed.

Inside was a single piece of lemon cake.

With one unlit candle on top.

I covered my mouth, fresh tears welling in my eyes. He had remembered. Even in the middle of the chaos, the police reports, and the hospital admission, he had made sure someone fetched a slice of lemon cake.

Luca pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the small candle.

The flame flickered warmly in the sterile hospital room.

“You never got to make your wish, Mom,” Luca said softly.

Teresa looked at the candle.

Then she looked at her two sons, standing shoulder to shoulder. She looked at her grandson, safe and smiling.

And she looked at me.

“I don’t need to wish anymore,” Teresa said, her voice filled with absolute peace. “I have everything I want right here.”

She leaned forward and blew out the candle.

We all clapped softly.

“Now,” Teresa said, looking at Luca with a sudden, sharp clarity. “There is one more thing we need to discuss.”

Luca sat down. “Anything, Mom.”

“Vanessa fired Hannah last night,” Teresa said matter-of-factly.

Luca frowned. “Vanessa didn’t have the authority to do that.”

“Be that as it may,” Teresa continued, “Hannah is currently unemployed. And she has a mother with medical bills.”

I felt my face turn bright red. “Mrs. Moretti, please, you don’t have to—”

Teresa held up a finger, silencing me.

“Luca, I am an old woman. I need a personal assistant. Someone to manage my schedule, oversee the household staff, and make sure my sons actually visit me on Sundays.”

Luca smiled, understanding exactly what his mother was doing.

“I agree, Mom. That sounds like a very important position.”

He looked up at me.

“Hannah, the position pays one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year. With full medical benefits for you and your mother. Will you accept it?”

My jaw dropped.

One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It was more money than I could have ever imagined. It meant my mother’s house was safe. Her care was covered. My debts were gone.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” I stammered, wiping my tears.

“Say yes,” Leo piped up from the corner.

I laughed through my tears.

“Yes,” I said, looking at Luca. “Yes, I accept.”

Luca stood up and walked over to me.

He didn’t shake my hand.

He pulled me into a tight, warm hug.

“Welcome to the family, Hannah,” he whispered in my ear.

For the first time in a year, I felt like I could finally breathe.

But as Luca pulled away, his cell phone rang in his pocket.

He answered it. “Carlo.”

He listened for a moment. The smile on his face slowly faded, replaced by a look of profound confusion.

“Are you sure?” Luca asked.

He hung up the phone and looked at Michael.

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“The police just searched Clara’s apartment,” Luca said slowly. “They found the forged marriage certificate she was going to use to steal the trust.”

“Good,” Michael said. “Add forgery to her charges.”

“You don’t understand,” Luca said, looking at me.

“Hannah, you said Clara told you she planned to marry me, right?”

“Yes,” I said.

Luca shook his head.

“The forged marriage certificate the police found… my name wasn’t on it.”

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