Chapter 4 - THE NAME IN THE LEDGER
The independent specialist was Dr. Helen Ward, a maternal-fetal medicine physician at a hospital in Boston.
She confirmed that I was approximately seven weeks pregnant. The pregnancy appeared to be developing normally, though she recommended routine monitoring and additional bloodwork.
Luca sat beside me throughout the appointment.
He asked practical questions, wrote down every instruction, and looked more nervous when the ultrasound technician turned on the monitor than he had when we entered a room full of armed men.
A small shape appeared on the screen.
“That's your baby,” Dr. Ward said.
Luca leaned forward.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then his fingers closed around mine.
“Hello,” he whispered.
I looked at him.
His eyes were bright.
After the appointment, he insisted on taking me home himself.
At the estate, Marco was waiting in the foyer with a slim folder.
“We found the technician,” he said.
“Where?”
“Retired. Her name is Patricia Sloan. She worked at the hospital twelve years ago.”
“Bring her in.”
“She refused to meet with us.”
Luca's expression did not change.
“Why?”
“She said she would speak only to an attorney.”
“Then arrange one.”
Marco hesitated.
“There is something else.”
He opened the folder.
Inside was a photocopy of a payment ledger from the year of Luca's accident. The entry was brief, almost meaningless.
A transfer had been made from a Varenna family account to a medical research foundation. The authorization bore Vittorio's signature.
The amount was substantial.
I looked at Luca.
“Why would your uncle pay a research foundation?”
“He funds several.”
Marco pointed to the reference number.
“This one was attached to a private clinic that handled the post-accident testing.”
Luca took the page.
“Who ran it?”
“Dr. Bell's former colleague. A physician named Samuel Rusk.”
“Find him.”
Marco nodded.
Then he added, “Boss, there is a second payment. It went to a laboratory employee. The amount was smaller, but it was made on the same day as the final fertility report.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Name?”
“Patricia Sloan.”
The technician.
I felt a chill move through me.
“Your uncle paid the woman who handled your test?”
“We don't know what the payment was for,” Luca said.
But his face told me he had already begun to understand.
That evening, a bouquet of white lilies arrived from Vittorio.
There was a card.
FOR THE NEWEST MEMBER OF THE VARENNA FAMILY. MAY THIS BE A HAPPY TIME FOR YOU BOTH.
I read it twice.
“That's not a congratulations card,” I said.
Luca took it from me.
“No.”
“It's a warning.”
He folded the card and placed it in his pocket.
“From now on, nobody accepts deliveries without inspection.”
I looked down at my stomach.
May you like
The baby was smaller than a strawberry.
Already, someone seemed to know too much.
