Chapter 8: The Daughter They Erased
I had thought the worst thing I could learn about my family was that my father had allowed my wife to be imprisoned.
I was wrong.
Sofia sat on the edge of the desk in Willow House, staring at the photograph of herself as a teenager. Rosie leaned against her side, tracing the edge of the paper with one small finger.
"My mother died when I was seventeen," Sofia said.
"That's what I was told.""
Her voice sounded distant, as though she were speaking from the bottom of a well.
"My father showed me a death certificate. He said Patricia had been involved in a financial investigation and that the stress had made her reckless. He said she drove too fast in the rain.""
I sat beside her.
"Your father?""
She nodded.
"Frank Wells. He raised me after Patricia died. He never let me visit the grave alone. Every year, he brought flowers and told me that my mother would have been proud of me.""
Her hands trembled around the photograph.
"I believed him.""
Daniels pulled a chair closer.
"Did Frank Wells work for Anthony Moretti?""
"Yes. He was a driver and security contractor. My father trusted him.""
Sofia looked up.
"Your father told me he was protecting me from Patricia's mistakes. He said she had stolen money and endangered our family.""
"And when you discovered the financial scheme?"" I asked.
"I thought I was proving my mother had been framed. I found her old employment records and realized the dates didn't match the story I had been told.""
She swallowed.
"I confronted Frank. He told me to stop asking questions. A week later, I found a photograph of my mother standing outside Willow House. It had been taken months after her supposed death.""
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I didn't know who I could trust. And because the day after I found that photograph, Frank disappeared.""
Sofia pressed her fingers to her temples.
"Then Vivienne came to our house and said she had information about Patricia. She claimed she wanted to help me find the truth.""
My stomach tightened.
"She used your mother to get close to you.""
Sofia nodded.
"She said she had discovered documents proving Patricia was alive. She arranged a meeting. I went because I thought I might finally find my mother.""
Her voice cracked.
"That's when they took me.""
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Rosie climbed into her mother's lap.
"Mommy, are you sad?""
Sofia kissed her cheek.
"A little, sweetheart.""
"Because Grandma is missing?""
Sofia closed her eyes.
"Yes.""
Rosie thought about that.
"Then we'll find her.""
The simplicity of her promise nearly broke me.
I wrapped one arm around them both.
"We will," I said.
Daniels returned to the file.
"Patricia's daughter may have been living under another name. We need to establish whether the person Marcus mentioned is Sofia or someone else.""
Sofia shook her head.
"He said, 'Patricia's daughter.'' He meant me.""
"Possibly," Daniels replied.
"But the recording also mentioned original footage. If Patricia documented the operation, there may be another witness.""
An officer approached with a fresh report.
"Detective, we found a second storage compartment behind the filing cabinets. It contains several video tapes and a portable drive.""
Daniels rose.
"Don't play anything until the forensic team documents it.""
The officer nodded.
While the team secured the recordings, I stepped into the corridor and called my attorney, David Bennett.
He answered on the second ring.
"Adrian, I've been trying to reach you. The police contacted my office about the investigation.""
"I need you to review every document my father signed concerning private medical facilities. Every property transfer, every trust, every authorization. Start with Willow House.""
"That's going to take time.""
"Then start now.""
David hesitated.
"There's something you should know. Your father left a sealed letter with me four years ago. He instructed me to deliver it to you only if a police investigation connected his estate to Patricia Wells.""
I stopped walking.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because the condition hadn't been met until today. I received confirmation from Detective Daniels twenty minutes ago.""
"What's in the letter?""
"I haven't opened it. Your father instructed me to give it directly to you.""
"Bring it to the mansion.""
"I can be there in forty minutes.""
"Make it thirty.""
I ended the call and returned to the room.
Sofia was standing in front of a monitor, staring at a frozen image from one of the recovered recordings.
The picture showed a brightly lit room with white walls and a long table.
My father sat at one end.
Marcus sat beside him.
Vivienne stood near the door.
And a woman with short gray hair sat opposite them, her hands folded on the table.
Patricia Wells.
Sofia stepped closer to the screen.
"That's her.""
Her voice barely carried.
"That's my mother.""
The technician played the recording.
My father's voice emerged from the speakers.
"Patricia, nobody here wants you hurt. We want to resolve this privately.""
Patricia looked directly at him.
"You have been moving money through facilities that don't exist. People are being held against their will. You can't resolve that privately.""
Marcus leaned forward.
"You're making accusations you can't prove.""
"I have the ledgers. I have the payment records. I have the names.""
Vivienne smiled faintly.
"Then perhaps you should tell us where you've hidden them.""
Patricia's expression hardened.
"You'll never find them.""
My father lowered his eyes.
"Please, Patricia. Think of Sofia.""
Patricia's composure cracked.
"Don't you dare use my daughter against me.""
"I am trying to protect her.""
"No. You're trying to protect your son.""
My father looked up sharply.
The room fell silent.
Patricia leaned forward.
"Adrian doesn't know what you're doing. He's not part of this. You can still stop before you destroy his life.""
Marcus stood.
"That's enough.""
Patricia didn't move.
"Your father built this family on loyalty. You built this scheme on fear. One day, someone will make you answer for it.""
Vivienne walked toward the camera.
The recording abruptly ended.
Sofia pressed a hand over her mouth.
"He knew," she whispered.
"My father knew everything.""
I watched the blank screen.
My father had not been an innocent bystander. He had been in the room, listening to a woman describe crimes committed in his family's name.
He had chosen silence.
Perhaps he had regretted it later.
But regret was not the same as innocence.
Daniels approached the technician.
"Is there more?""
"Several files. One appears to have been recorded later, possibly at a different location.""
The screen changed.
Patricia sat in a narrow room, looking directly at the camera.
She appeared tired but composed. A small bruise marked her forehead, though there was no other visible injury.
"If anyone finds this recording," she began, "my name is Patricia Wells. I am making this statement voluntarily because I believe I may not survive the next few days.""
Sofia moved closer.
Patricia continued.
"Anthony Moretti knows what has happened. He knows the accounts were used to pay for unlawful detention. He knows my daughter is in danger. But he is not the person giving the final orders.""
My heartbeat quickened.
Patricia leaned toward the camera.
"The person controlling the operation is someone nobody in the Moretti family would ever suspect.""
The recording crackled.
Then Patricia spoke a name.
"Elena Moretti.""
I stopped breathing.
My mother.
The woman whose funeral I had attended.
The woman my father had told me died in a car accident.
Sofia stared at the screen, tears streaming down her face.
Patricia continued.
"Elena is alive. She arranged her disappearance because she believed the investigation would expose everyone involved. She has been operating under another identity for years.""
I felt the room tilt.
My mother had not died.
She had vanished.
And while I mourned her, she had apparently remained connected to the same conspiracy that destroyed Sofia's life.
The recording ended with Patricia's final words.
"If Elena has contacted you, do not trust what she says. She will tell you she did everything to protect her son.""
Sofia turned toward me.
"Adrian, your mother is alive.""
Before I could answer, my phone rang.
An unfamiliar woman spoke when I picked up.
"Adrian Moretti?""
"Who is this?""
"My name is Elena.""
My knees nearly gave way.
My mother's voice was older, lower, but unmistakable.
"I know you've found Sofia. I know you've discovered the recordings.""
I gripped the phone.
"Where are you?""
A pause.
Then she said, "I'm the only person who can tell you why your father let them take your wife.""
I swallowed.
"Why should I believe you?""
"You shouldn't.""
Her answer came without hesitation.
"But if you want to know what really happened the night Patricia Wells disappeared, meet me alone.""
"Where?""
"At the cemetery where you buried me.""
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Daniels stepped toward me.
"Who was that?""
I looked at Sofia.
She was already shaking her head.
"Don't go," she whispered.
"Please, Adrian. Whatever she tells you, don't go alone.""
I looked at the photograph of my mother on the monitor.
For four years, I'd believed she was beneath the earth.
May you like
Now she wanted to meet me at her own grave.
And I had a terrible feeling that the truth waiting there would be worse than anything we had found so far.
