Chapter 6 - THE FINAL WISH
Luca stared at the tiny black square of plastic in his mother’s trembling palm. The dashcam footage. The undeniable, recorded truth of the last moments of Catherine’s life. “You’ve had this for four years,” Luca said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. The shock had bypassed anger and settled into a hollow, haunting quiet. “You let me bury a closed casket. You let me believe I failed her.” “I was honoring her dying wish,” Teresa pleaded, tears dropping onto her nightgown. “She was terrified, Luca. She said, ‘Don't let him watch this until the threat is gone. Don't let him carry this guilt if he doesn't know who to fight.’ I didn't know it was Vanessa until today. I swear to you.” Luca didn't take the memory card. He turned his back to his mother, staring at the blank wall. His shoulders shook once, violently, before he locked his posture into rigid stone. “Mr. Moretti,” I said softly, stepping forward with Leo still clinging to my neck. “She was just a mother trying to protect her son. Both of them were.” Luca turned his head slightly. He looked at me, then at Leo. The anger in his eyes fractured, replaced by an overwhelming, crushing sorrow. He walked over to his mother, gently taking the SD card from her hand. “Hannah,” he said quietly. “My laptop is in the study. Bring it to the kitchen.” “Luca, please,” Teresa begged. “You don't have to watch it. We know the truth now.” “I have to,” he replied, his voice firm. “Take care of Leo, Mom.” I left the bedroom, hurrying down the hall to the destroyed study. The doorframe was splintered, the lock shattered from when Luca had broken in to find the ledger. His silver laptop sat untouched on the mahogany desk. I carried it into the kitchen. The vast, stainless-steel room was cold and quiet. Luca walked in a moment later, his suit jacket gone, his tie pulled loose. He looked ten years older than he had when the evening began. He sat at the island, opening the laptop. He slid the micro-SD card into the slot. “Do you want me to leave, sir?” I asked, lingering by the door. “No,” he said. “Stay. Please.” I stood beside him as the computer read the file. There was only one video icon. The date stamp was four years old. December 12th. The night of the crash. Luca’s finger hovered over the trackpad. His hand was shaking. He pressed play. The screen filled with the view from the dashboard of the town car. The wipers were scraping against a light drizzle. The road was dark, illuminated only by the headlights. Inside the cabin, the microphone picked up the audio perfectly. “You’re making a mistake, Mrs. Moretti,” a male voice said. Arthur. “Keep your eyes on the road, Arthur,” Catherine’s voice replied. It was the first time I had ever heard her speak. Her voice was strong, steady, but laced with panic. “Drive straight to the precinct.” “My sister isn't going to let you do this.” “Your sister is a parasite. And if you think she won't turn on you the second this goes wrong, you’re stupider than I thought.” There was a heavy silence on the recording. The car sped up. The engine whined. “Slow down,” Catherine commanded. “I can't,” Arthur’s voice cracked with sudden, genuine terror. “The brakes. They’re dead. The pedal goes straight to the floor.” Luca stopped breathing. On the screen, the car swerved sharply to avoid a curve. “Arthur, slow down!” Catherine screamed. “I can't! She did this! Nessa did this!” The car careened off the pavement. The camera violently jerked. There was a deafening crunch of metal, the shattering of glass, and then—darkness. But the audio kept recording. For a long, agonizing minute, there was only the sound of hissing steam and rain. Then, a ragged gasp. “Arthur?” Catherine coughed, a wet, horrifying sound. No answer. “Oh, God,” Catherine whimpered. There was the sound of shifting metal. “Luca. I’m sorry, Luca.” Luca covered his mouth, tears silently pouring down his face. Then, the sound of a car pulling up outside the wreck. Tires crunching on gravel. A car door slamming. Footsteps approached the crushed vehicle. “Arthur?” a woman’s voice called out. Vanessa. On the recording, Catherine stopped making noise. She went dead silent, playing dead. “Arthur, answer me,” Vanessa demanded. A flashlight beam briefly cut across the camera lens. “Dammit. You useless idiot.” She didn't try to help him. She didn't call 911. “Goodbye, Catherine,” Vanessa whispered coldly. “He’s mine now.” Footsteps retreated. A car door slammed. Tires squealed as Vanessa drove away, leaving them to die. The recording clicked off. Luca closed the laptop slowly. He didn't yell. He didn't throw anything. He just sat there, staring at the silver casing of the computer. “She stood there,” he whispered. “She looked at the wreck, and she drove away.” “She will spend the rest of her life in a cage,” I said fiercely. “The police have everything they need. The ledger, the receipts, and now this.” Luca nodded slowly. He finally looked up at me. “Hannah. You risked your job, your safety, and your life tonight to protect my family. Why?” I thought about my mother. I thought about the fear I felt every time a hospital bill arrived. But looking at Luca, I knew the real answer. “Because nobody deserves to feel entirely alone,” I said. “And for four years, Mrs. Moretti has been carrying a secret that was crushing her. She needed someone to help her stand.” Luca reached across the marble island and took my hand. His grip was firm, warm, and filled with a profound gratitude that made my chest ache. “You’re not a maid anymore, Hannah,” he said quietly. Before I could ask what he meant, the kitchen phone rang. It was the private line, the one that only rang when security at the front gate called the house. Luca picked it up. “Yes?” He listened for a moment. His brow furrowed. “Let him through,” Luca said, hanging up the phone. “Who is it?” I asked. “The police,” Luca replied, his eyes narrowing. “They’re coming back. Vanessa isn't in custody.” My blood ran cold. “What? I watched them put her in the car!” “She never made it to the station,” Luca said, walking toward the front hall. “The cruiser was T-boned at an intersection two miles from here. Vanessa kicked out the window and ran.”
