Chapter 5 – The Home She Was Supposed To Forget

Luca didn’t speak for several seconds.

Then he asked, “Boarding school?”

Helen nodded reluctantly.

“She mentioned a school in Wisconsin. She said Isabelle might enjoy the independence.”

“My daughter is ten.”

“I know.”

“She’s never spent more than a weekend away from home without me.”

Helen looked genuinely distressed.

“Mr. Moretti, I didn’t understand that.”

Luca leaned forward.

“Then what did you understand?”

“That you were planning a new marriage. That Isabelle was struggling with the changes. Vanessa said you’d asked her to find a temporary arrangement.”

He stared at her.

“Did she tell you I wanted my daughter to live somewhere else?”

Helen hesitated.

“She said you were having difficulty saying it yourself.”

The room became very quiet.

I stood near the window, holding a tray of coffee nobody had touched.

Helen opened her folder.

There were handwritten notes.

School calendars.

A list of children’s books.

Even a sketch of a bedroom.

“I thought I was helping,” she said.

Her voice shook.

“Vanessa told me Isabelle needed someone who could give her more attention than you were able to.”

Luca looked down.

I saw that the accusation had struck somewhere painful.

Helen continued.

“I’m a retired teacher. I live alone. I have a garden and two dogs. I thought perhaps I could give her a pleasant few weeks.”

“Then why discuss boarding school?”

Helen looked at the papers.

“Because Vanessa said the arrangement might need to continue if Isabelle didn’t adjust well to the new household.”

Luca’s expression hardened.

“Adjust to what?”

Helen didn’t answer.

He looked toward the staircase.

“To having a father who was getting married?”

Helen swallowed.

“I believe that was what she meant.”

Luca leaned back.

For a moment, he looked much older than thirty-five.

Then he asked, “Did you meet Isabelle yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“How did she seem?”

Helen’s eyes filled.

“Very polite.”

I felt my stomach tighten.

“Too polite?” I asked.

Helen turned toward me.

She nodded.

“Yes.”

She opened another section of the folder.

“She asked whether I had a room with a lock.”

Luca went still.

“A lock?”

Helen nodded.

“She wanted to know if she could keep her mother’s things somewhere nobody would move them.”

I looked down at the tray.

Helen continued quietly.

“She also asked whether I minded children crying at night.”

Luca covered his mouth.

I had never seen him look so completely helpless.

Helen wiped her eyes.

“I told her crying was allowed in my house.”

“Thank you,” Luca said.

She shook her head.

“I wish I’d asked more questions.”

For the first time, I understood that Helen might have been used almost as cruelly as Isabelle.

She’d been told she was helping a grieving child.

She hadn’t known the child believed her father was sending her away.

“Mrs. Bellini,” Luca said, “there will be no placement. Isabelle is staying here.”

Helen nodded immediately.

“Of course.”

“And I need you to tell me everything Vanessa said.”

Helen looked uncomfortable.

“She’s my niece.”

“I understand.”

“I’ve known her since she was born.”

“Then perhaps you can help me understand why she thought this was acceptable.”

Helen folded her hands.

For a moment, she seemed to consider how much to say.

“Vanessa was twelve when her parents separated.”

Luca listened.

“Her father remarried the following year. His new wife had a son.”

Helen looked toward the fireplace.

“Vanessa was sent to stay with me during the summer while they prepared the house for the new family.”

I felt a coldness settle in my stomach.

“How long did she stay?” Luca asked.

“Eight months.”

Luca’s expression changed.

Helen continued.

“She was told it was temporary. Her father kept promising she’d come home when things settled down.”

“Did she?”

“Eventually.”

Helen looked at him.

“But by then, she didn’t feel she belonged there anymore.”

Luca rubbed his forehead.

“That doesn’t explain why she’d do the same thing to Isabelle.”

“No,” Helen said.

“It doesn’t.”

She looked toward the stairs.

“Sometimes people who were hurt as children become very careful not to feel powerless again.”

Luca said nothing.

Helen continued.

“But controlling somebody else’s life isn’t the same as making yourself safe.”

I thought about Vanessa standing in the dining room.

Her expensive gown.

Her perfect hair.

The cold certainty with which she’d ordered me to throw away a little girl’s music box.

I could understand how she might have become frightened of being replaced.

I could not understand why she’d decided Isabelle should experience that fear instead.

Luca stood.

“Thank you for coming.”

Helen nodded.

“I’ll speak to Vanessa.”

“That’s between you and your niece.”

He looked toward the stairs.

“But Isabelle needs to hear from you that she isn’t expected to leave.”

Helen’s expression softened.

“Of course.”

She rose.

Then paused.

“Mr. Moretti, there’s one thing I should mention.”

Luca turned.

“What?”

Helen opened the folder again.

She removed a printed schedule.

“Vanessa first asked about Isabelle staying with me in June.”

Luca stared at her.

“June?”

“Yes.”

He looked at the date.

Five months earlier.

Helen watched his expression.

“Is that important?”

Luca didn’t answer immediately.

Then he said quietly:

“Vanessa told me she found out she was pregnant three weeks ago.”

Helen frowned.

“I see.”

Luca looked down at the schedule.

At the handwritten dates.

At the proposed school arrangements.

Then he said the words that changed everything.

“She was planning to send Isabelle away long before there was a baby.”

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