Chapter 7 - THE RAIN
The panic that surged through the mansion was immediate and suffocating. Within twenty minutes, the house was swarming with local police and private security contractors. Luca had hired a dozen armed men to patrol the perimeter. Floodlights illuminated the sprawling lawns, turning the night into an eerie, artificial day. Teresa and Leo were moved to the safest room in the house—the windowless library in the center of the first floor. I sat on a leather sofa, holding Leo, who had thankfully fallen back asleep despite the chaos. Luca paced the length of the rug, a fresh cup of black coffee in his hand. The police captain, a burly man named Harris, stood by the door. “We have dogs tracking her scent from the crash site,” Captain Harris explained. “She’s on foot, Mr. Moretti. In three-inch heels and a torn evening gown. It started pouring rain ten minutes ago. She won't get far.” “You underestimate her,” Luca said sharply. “She’s cornered. Cornered animals don't hide. They strike.” “We have officers at the bus stations, the train terminals, and the airport. We’ve flagged her credit cards.” “She won't use her own money,” Luca countered. He stopped pacing and looked at me. “Hannah, earlier tonight, when Vanessa was in my mother’s room holding the blanket. Did she say anything else? Anything at all?” I racked my brain, thinking back to the moment I stood in the hallway, listening through the cracked door. “She said Arthur should have driven faster,” I recalled. “And... she was looking at a piece of paper. A small slip.” “What slip?” “I don't know. But she muttered something about a locker. She said, ‘I’m not leaving it in that locker forever.’” Luca’s eyes widened. He turned to the captain. “The bus terminal downtown. The old Greyhound station. They still have coin-operated lockers in the basement.” “Are you sure?” Harris asked, reaching for his radio. “It’s where she’s keeping her cash,” Luca realized. “The embezzlement. Arthur’s ledger proved she was skimming money from my accounts. She wouldn't put stolen cash in a bank. She has a go-bag.” Harris barked orders into his radio, dispatching units to the downtown terminal. “Stay here,” Luca told me, walking toward the door. “Where are you going?” I asked, standing up. “To the terminal. I want to be there when they put the cuffs on her.” “Luca, no,” Teresa pleaded from her wheelchair. “Let the police handle it.” “I’m not going to touch her, Mom,” he promised. “But I need to look her in the eyes when she realizes she has absolutely nothing left.” He walked out with Captain Harris, leaving two armed guards at the library door. The hours crawled by. The heavy rain lashed against the exterior of the house, a steady, rhythmic drumming that did nothing to soothe my nerves. I rocked Leo gently, watching the antique grandfather clock tick past 3:00 AM. Teresa finally dozed off in her chair, exhausted by the emotional toll of the night. At 4:15 AM, the heavy oak door of the library opened. I jumped, instinctively wrapping my arms tighter around Leo. It was Luca. He was completely soaked, his white dress shirt clinging to his skin, his hair plastered to his forehead. He looked exhausted, but the rigid tension in his shoulders was gone. He walked over to the sofa and dropped a heavy, soaked canvas duffel bag onto the coffee table. The zipper was half-open, revealing stacks of hundred-dollar bills, a fake passport, and a diamond necklace I recognized as one of Catherine’s. “Did they catch her?” I asked quietly, not wanting to wake Teresa. Luca nodded. He sat down heavily on the armchair opposite me. “She was at locker 42,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Trying to jam a jammed key. The police surrounded her before she could even turn around.” A profound wave of relief washed over me. It was over. The nightmare that had haunted this family for four years was finally, truly over. “What happens now?” I asked. Luca leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at the duffel bag, then at his mother, and finally at his sleeping son in my arms. “Now, we heal,” he said softly. He stood up and walked over to me. He gently scooped Leo out of my arms. The little boy stirred, wrapping his arms around his father’s neck, mumbling something in his sleep. “Take the day off tomorrow, Hannah,” Luca said. “In fact, take the week. Paid.” “I can't,” I said instinctively. “The house is a mess. The dinner party—” “The house can wait,” Luca interrupted gently. “Go see your mother. Tell her she doesn't have to worry about the hospital bills anymore. I’m covering her therapy. In full.” Tears pricked my eyes. “Mr. Moretti, you don't have to do that.” “I want to. You saved my family tonight, Hannah. It’s my turn to help yours.” I nodded, unable to speak around the lump in my throat. The storm outside finally began to break, the heavy rain tapering off into a gentle drizzle. The first faint light of dawn was beginning to turn the sky a bruised purple through the hallway windows. I packed my small tote bag in the staff locker room, changing out of my uniform and into my jeans and sweater. When I walked back toward the front door, Teresa was awake, sitting in the foyer. “Hannah,” she called out softly. I walked over to her. “Yes, ma'am?” She reached out and took my hand. “Thank you. For giving me my son back.” I smiled, squeezing her hand. “I’ll see you next week, Mrs. Moretti.” As I opened the heavy front door and stepped out into the cool, rain-washed morning air, I took a deep breath. For the first time in a year, the Moretti mansion didn't feel like a fortress hiding dark secrets. It just felt like a home.
