Chapter 3 – The Locks Were Already Scheduled

I carried the work order back to the dining room without stopping.

Luca was helping Noah fold his card into a shape that would fit safely inside a coat pocket.

Daniel stood near the window, his face reflected faintly in the dark glass.

Vanessa was still there.

For some reason, that surprised me.

I’d expected her to disappear into one of the private rooms upstairs.

Instead, she was waiting.

“Mr. Moretti,” I said, “you need to see this.”

Luca took the paper.

He read the contractor’s instructions.

Then he looked at Vanessa.

“Who scheduled a locksmith for Thursday morning?”

She leaned forward.

“That’s part of the preliminary renovations.”

“Thursday morning,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“The morning of Noah’s original adoption hearing.”

Vanessa hesitated.

“The hearing has been postponed.”

“Because of the information you gave the agency.”

“It was postponed because the agency needed clarification.”

Luca looked at the paper again.

“And you scheduled the locks to be changed before anyone had clarified anything?”

Vanessa’s voice hardened.

“I wasn’t planning to put Daniel and the child on the street.”

“Then what exactly was your plan?”

“To have them moved somewhere more appropriate.”

Daniel turned from the window.

“You keep using that word.”

“Because I mean it.”

“What’s inappropriate about the home where I’ve raised my son for two years?”

Vanessa sighed.

“Daniel, a child with Noah’s history needs consistency.”

“Then stop taking it away from him.”

She fell silent.

Luca placed the work order on the table.

“Those locks aren’t being changed.”

“I understand.”

“And no one will enter Cedar Cottage without Daniel’s permission. Not the contractors, not the planners, not household staff.”

Vanessa nodded stiffly.

Luca took out his phone, but he didn’t make a call.

He wrote a short instruction for his estate manager, then placed the phone facedown.

For once, he seemed determined to handle the people in front of him before dealing with anybody else.

Daniel watched him.

“Dad, this isn’t just about Thursday.”

“I know.”

“The agency has to believe the housing is stable.”

“Then I’ll give them a proper lease.”

Daniel looked uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to hand me a house.”

“I’m not handing you anything. You already live there.”

“I pay rent because I don’t want my son growing up thinking everything comes from his grandfather.”

Luca nodded.

“Good. Then we’ll put the arrangement in writing and charge you a fair amount.”

Daniel gave him a tired smile.

“Your idea of fair and mine might be different.”

“Probably.”

It was the first time they’d managed even a hint of their usual humor.

But the moment didn’t last.

“There’s something else,” Daniel said.

Luca looked up.

“The agency asked about my work schedule.”

“You’re a nurse.”

“They know that. What they wanted to know was whether Noah is ever left alone overnight.”

Luca stared.

“Is he?”

“No.”

Daniel’s answer was immediate.

“Mrs. Keating watches him when I work late. She’s a retired teacher. Noah’s known her since he moved in.”

I’d met Mrs. Keating several times. She lived in a small house beyond the estate’s eastern gate and made excellent banana bread.

Daniel continued.

“I gave the agency her name when Noah was first placed with me. They’ve met her. They’ve reviewed the arrangement.”

“Then why would they ask again?”

Daniel looked at Vanessa.

“Because someone told them I was working extra shifts and leaving Noah without proper supervision.”

Vanessa straightened.

“I never said you abandoned the child.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“I said your schedule could become difficult if you had to move farther from the hospital.”

Daniel shook his head.

“You invented a move. Then you used the move to suggest I couldn’t take care of him.”

For the first time, Vanessa had no quick answer.

I remembered how proudly Daniel had once told Luca about being promoted to senior nurse on his unit.

He’d turned down a supervisory position because it required more unpredictable hours.

At the time, Luca had joked that he’d never known a Moretti to refuse a promotion.

Daniel had simply said, “I want to be home for breakfast.”

Now I understood what those breakfasts meant.

Luca looked toward Noah.

The little boy was growing sleepy, his head resting against the back of the chair.

“We need to get him home,” Daniel said.

Luca nodded.

“Of course.”

He walked over and helped Noah into his jacket.

“Would you like me to carry your card for you?”

Noah shook his head.

“I’ve got it.”

“Fair enough.”

The boy slipped the card carefully into his pocket.

Then he looked at Vanessa.

“Are we allowed to leave by the front door?”

Daniel went completely still.

Vanessa looked wounded.

“Of course you are, Noah.”

“But earlier you said we had to go out the back.”

I saw Luca’s jaw tighten.

He knelt beside the child.

“There’s something I want you to know. The front door belongs to everybody in this family.”

Noah looked toward Daniel.

“Even us?”

“Especially you two.”

Noah nodded.

Then he asked, “Can I get my other bag first?”

Daniel frowned.

“What other bag, buddy?”

“The one in the closet.”

“What bag?”

Noah lowered his eyes.

“The leaving bag.”

Daniel’s expression changed so suddenly that I felt a chill.

He crouched beside his son.

“Did you pack your things?”

“A little.”

“Why?”

Noah glanced nervously toward Vanessa.

She went pale.

The little boy spoke so quietly I nearly missed it.

“Miss Vanessa said I should be ready when they come to take me away on Thursday.”

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