And for one beautiful moment, the nightmare seemed over.
Then Noah whispered something that made my blood turn cold.
“Mommy?”
I looked at him.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
He glanced toward the hallway.
“Are we leaving?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head.
“Then we have to hurry.”
Luca looked up.
“Why?”
Noah’s voice trembled.
“Because Dr. Keller said if my real parents ever came, he’d make sure we disappeared again.”
Within minutes, investigators had secured the property.
The woman in the white coat was taken for questioning.
Noah remained beside me.
He refused to let go of my hand.
Luca sat on his other side.
For the first time, I understood what it meant to have a family.
Not from photographs.
Not from stories.
But from the warmth of a small hand wrapped around mine.
Then the lead investigator returned.
His expression was serious.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Luca stood.
“What?”
“Dr. Keller is not here.”
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
The investigator continued.
“But we found a room beneath the house.”
Luca looked at him.
“What kind of room?”
“A medical treatment room. Locked storage. Patient records.”
My heart began pounding.
The investigator hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
I stood.
“What?”
He looked directly at me.
“Mrs. Moretti, we found records indicating you were treated here five years ago.”
I stared at him.
“Here?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
I looked toward the blue bedroom.
The walls.
The hallway.
The smell of antiseptic.
Suddenly, a memory flashed.
A bed.
Bright lights.
A needle.
A man’s voice.
She remembers too much. Increase the medication.
I staggered.
Luca caught me.
“Emma!”
I gripped his arm.
“I remember.”
He stared at me.
“What?”
I looked toward the investigator.
“Dr. Keller.”
My voice shook.
“He wasn’t trying to help me.”
I began crying.
“He was trying to make me forget.”
Then another memory surfaced.
Un homme se tient à côté de mon lit d’hôpital.
Victor Hale.
Souriant.
Et derrière lui, une femme.
Cheveux foncés.
Des vêtements chers.
Une voix familière.
Faites en sorte qu’elle ne se souvienne jamais de Luca.
J’ai haleté.
Luca m’a agrippé les épaules.
“OMS?”
Je l’ai regardé.
“Isabelle.”
Son visage devint blanc.
« Isabella Romano ? »
J’ai hoché la tête.
“Elle était là.”
Puis je me suis souvenu de quelque chose d’encore pire.
La nuit de l’incendie.
La chambre bleue.
Noé pleure.
Et Isabelle se tenait près de l’escalier.
Tenant une petite bouteille.
J’ai regardé Luca.
« Elle ne s’est pas contentée de les aider à nous cacher. »
Ma voix s’est brisée.
«Elle était là la nuit où ils nous ont emmenés.»
