Chapter 4

“You arranged for Sophie to go with them.”

Luca’s voice was low enough that I had to listen carefully.

Vanessa looked at the inventory sheet.

“That’s a transportation instruction. The luggage would travel with her. Nobody was suggesting she ride in a delivery truck.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Then stop making everything sound sinister.”

Luca set the folder down.

“My daughter believes she’s being sent away. Her belongings are packed. A school is expecting her Monday morning. And you still haven’t told me when you intended to discuss any of this with me.”

Vanessa’s answer came too quickly.

“Tomorrow, after the ceremony.”

“After we’re married?”

“Yes.”

“After Sophie has already spent weeks believing she isn’t welcome here?”

Vanessa looked away.

That silence told me more than another argument would have.

Sophie climbed down from her chair.

“Can I see my coat?”

Luca turned to her.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“The blue one.”

“I know which one.”

Her coat was pale blue wool with dark buttons.

Claire had bought it during the last winter she was well enough to go shopping.

It was too small now, but Sophie kept it folded in the bottom drawer of her dresser.

Sometimes she wore it around the house with the sleeves pushed up.

Vanessa had once complained that it made her look like a child dressed in somebody else’s clothes.

Sophie had answered, very quietly, that she was somebody else’s child.

I’d never forgotten that.

We went upstairs together.

Luca carried the folder. Vanessa followed several steps behind us, holding the railing more tightly than necessary.

The upstairs hall smelled faintly of fresh paint.

A decorator had been preparing the guest rooms for Vanessa’s family.

Outside Sophie’s bedroom stood six cartons, carefully sealed with white packing tape.

The smallest had her name written across the top.

She stopped beside it.

“That’s my sewing stuff.”

Luca looked at me.

“Do you know where the coat is?”

“Carton three, I think.”

I found a utility knife in the supply drawer and carefully opened the box.

Inside were neatly folded sweaters, two pairs of shoes, three school notebooks, and the blue coat.

Everything had been packed with almost professional care.

That somehow made it worse.

Sophie lifted the coat with both hands.

She pressed her face against the collar.

Then she gave a small, embarrassed laugh.

“It doesn’t smell like Mommy anymore.”

Nobody knew what to say.

She looked at Luca.

“I remember how she smelled, though.”

He nodded.

“Tell me.”

“Like the soap in the yellow box. And sometimes cinnamon.”

Luca smiled faintly.

“She put cinnamon in everything.”

“Even the applesauce.”

“Especially the applesauce.”

For a brief moment, Sophie looked like a child who had forgotten to be frightened.

Then she glanced at Vanessa.

“Can I keep the coat even if it doesn’t fit?”

Vanessa closed her eyes.

“Yes, Sophie.”

“You said I had to choose things I’d actually use.”

“I know what I said.”

“Then can I?”

“Yes.”

Sophie hugged it against her chest.

Luca watched the exchange.

“Why did she think she needed your permission to keep her mother’s coat?”

Vanessa rubbed her forehead.

“Because I thought we were making an arrangement for a two-week visit. Not preparing her for exile.”

“Two weeks?” Luca asked.

“An introductory stay. That’s what I understood.”

I looked toward the carton.

The shipping label didn’t mention two weeks.

It listed an intake date, a transportation reference, and an address.

Nothing about returning home.

Luca noticed me looking.

“What is it, Emily?”

“Sir, did the school send anything about what children are allowed to bring?”

Vanessa answered.

“They recommend minimizing objects that reinforce unhealthy attachments.”

“Did they write that?” he asked.

She hesitated.

“Not in those exact words.”

Luca looked at the coat in Sophie’s arms.

“Then I’d like to see what they actually wrote.”

Vanessa’s expression hardened.

“You’re treating me as though I’ve invented everything.”

“I’m asking for the instructions.”

She opened a box on the hall table and removed a thick cream-colored booklet.

“Here.”

Luca turned several pages.

He read quietly.

Then stopped.

“Listen to this.”

Vanessa didn’t move.

He read the section aloud.

“Children are encouraged to bring familiar belongings, particularly items that provide reassurance during separation from family.”

I looked at Sophie.

She was stroking one of the coat’s buttons.

Luca continued.

“Personal keepsakes, family letters, and photographs are welcome.”

The word letters seemed to catch Vanessa’s attention.

He closed the booklet.

“Briarfield didn’t tell you to remove her mother’s things.”

Vanessa said nothing.

“That was your decision.”

She looked at him.

“I thought bringing a house full of reminders would make it impossible for Sophie to settle.”

“She wouldn’t have needed to settle anywhere if you hadn’t arranged this.”

“Luca, she needs help.”

“And you’re making decisions about her grief without either of us.”

For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely close to tears.

“I was trying to build a marriage in a house where every room already belonged to someone else.”

The admission was quiet.

Sophie heard it anyway.

She looked down at the coat.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Luca immediately knelt.

“Sweetheart, no.”

“I didn’t know my room was in the way.”

“Your room isn’t in anybody’s way.”

He looked up at Vanessa.

“Do you hear what she’s taking from this?”

Vanessa covered her mouth.

I thought she might apologize.

Instead, she said, “I can’t do anything right tonight.”

Sophie went still.

It was such a familiar reaction that my stomach hurt.

She’d learned to stop asking questions when Vanessa became upset.

Luca noticed.

He stood and moved between them.

“We’re going to finish this conversation without Sophie having to manage anyone else’s feelings.”

Vanessa stared at him.

“Fine.”

He turned back to his daughter.

“There’s something I need to understand. Did Vanessa tell you I’d agreed to Briarfield?”

Sophie nodded.

“When?”

“Last Sunday.”

“What exactly did she say?”

The little girl held the coat tighter.

“She said you signed the papers because you loved me.”

Luca frowned.

“Because I loved you?”

“She said sometimes good parents have to make hard choices.”

Sophie looked directly at him.

Then she asked the question she’d apparently been carrying all week.

“Daddy… if you didn’t want me to go, why did you sign the paper?”

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