Chapter 9 - THE BREAKING DAWN
My trembling fingers lifted the flap of the envelope. Inside was a cashier’s check. It wasn’t just enough for my sister’s surgery. It was enough for her recovery, her physical therapy, and a college fund. It was fifty thousand dollars. “Mr. Moretti, I can’t—” “Luca,” he corrected gently. “And you can. You gave me my brother back. You gave my mother her voice back. It’s a debt I can never fully repay.” Tears hot and heavy spilled over my cheeks. I pressed my hands to my face, letting out a breath I felt like I had been holding for months. My sister was going to be okay. We were going to be okay. “There’s one more thing,” Luca said, standing up. He walked around the table and offered me his hand. “My mother doesn’t need a maid anymore. But she does need a companion. A translator. A friend. The position pays triple what you were making. If you want it.” I looked at his hand, then up at his face. The cold, hardened businessman was gone. He was just a son, grateful to have his family whole again. I took his hand. “I would love that.” Two weeks later, the Chicago sun was shining brightly over the estate gardens. I walked out onto the patio, carrying a tray with two glasses of iced tea. Eleanor was sitting in the shade of the oak tree. She wasn't in her wheelchair today. She was sitting in a plush patio chair, looking stronger, healthier. Anthony was sitting beside her, laughing at a story she was signing to him. Luca stood nearby, leaning against the stone railing, watching them with a quiet peace in his eyes. I set the tray down on the wrought-iron table. Eleanor looked up at me. She didn’t sign this time. She reached out, took my hand, and squeezed it gently. Her eyes spoke the words her voice couldn’t. Thank you. I smiled back, the warmth of the sun matching the warmth in my chest. For years, Eleanor Moretti was the woman nobody listened to. But as I watched her sons flank her, fiercely protective and completely devoted, I knew one thing for certain. She would never be ignored again.
