Chapter 9: The Mother I Never Knew
I had spent twelve years asking one question.
Who was my mother?
My father always gave me the same answer.
"She loved you.""
Nothing more.
No stories.
No pictures.
No memories.
Just four words.
She loved you.
But now someone on the phone had mentioned her.
And my father's reaction told me everything.
"Who was it?""
He didn't answer.
"Dad.""
He walked toward the window.
"Her name was Isabella.""
I had heard the name before.
Only once.
When I was little.
A woman from the house had accidentally said it.
Then my father had become silent.
"What happened to her?""
My father looked outside.
"She died.""
"How?""
He closed his eyes.
"That is complicated.""
I hated that word.
Complicated.
Adults used it when the truth was painful.
"Was it because of you?""
He turned.
The question hurt him.
But he answered.
"Partly.""
The room became silent.
Elena looked away.
She knew.
"Dad...""
He sat beside me.
"Your mother wanted a different life for us.""
"What does that mean?""
"It means she didn't want Emily Moretti to grow up surrounded by fear.""
My fingers touched my cane.
"Did she leave?""
"No.""
His voice broke slightly.
"She stayed.""
"Then what happened?""
My father looked down.
"People who wanted to hurt me found another way.""
I felt cold.
"They used her?""
He nodded.
"Yes.""
I didn't know what to say.
The woman who gave me life had become a mystery.
And now that mystery was connected to the people targeting me.
That night, my father showed me something.
A photograph.
I had never seen it before.
A woman with a gentle smile.
She was holding me as a baby.
"Your mother.""
I touched the edge of the photo.
"What was she like?""
My father's voice softened.
"Brave.""
A small smile appeared.
"She argued with me more than anyone.""
I laughed quietly.
"Really?""
"Yes.""
"About what?""
"Everything.""
For a moment, he sounded happy.
Then it disappeared.
The next morning, we received another message.
Not from the school.
Not from an unknown number.
From an old account belonging to my mother.
My father stared at the screen.
"This is impossible.""
Elena asked,
"Can it be traced?""
"No.""
My father looked at me.
The message contained only one sentence.
"Vincent, you promised you would keep Emily away from this world.""
My father went completely still.
Then another message arrived.
"You failed.""
I heard my own heartbeat.
"Dad?""
He didn't answer.
A third message appeared.
"I know what happened to Isabella.""
My father grabbed the phone.
Then the final message arrived.
"Meet me if you want the truth.""
Below it was an address.
An old building on the edge of the city.
My father immediately said,
"No.""
I turned.
"No?""
"You are staying here.""
"Why?""
"Because whoever sent this wants me to react.""
"But you need to know if it's about Mom.""
He became quiet.
I knew I was right.
After a long moment, he looked at Elena.
"She stays with you.""
I stood.
"I want to go.""
"No.""
"Dad.""
"No.""
His voice wasn't angry.
It was scared.
That was worse.
"I already lost your mother.""
The room became silent.
"I will not risk losing you.""
I didn't argue.
Not because I agreed.
Because I understood.
My father wasn't acting like Vincent Moretti.
He was acting like my dad.
Three hours later, he left.
Elena stayed beside me.
We waited.
One hour.
Two hours.
Three.
Then her phone rang.
She answered.
Her face changed.
"What happened?""
She listened.
Then slowly stood.
"Emily.""
"What?""
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Your father found someone.""
"Who?""
She looked at me.
"The person who created the target list.""
I held my breath.
"Who is it?""
Elena didn't answer immediately.
Then she said the name.
And my entire world changed.
Because the person behind everything wasn't a stranger.
It was someone who had been protecting my family for years.
Someone my father trusted completely.
May you like
Someone who had been inside our home.
The whole time. :::
