Chapter 9 - A DIFFERENT KIND OF FAMILY
The trust process took several months.
Independent counsel confirmed the documents, verified my parentage, and arranged the transfer of the shares into a protected account. I chose not to become involved in the daily operations of Moretti Holdings.
I used part of the fund to establish a small grant for families facing emergency medical costs. It was named the Elena Mitchell Family Fund.
Luca offered to match the initial amount.
I accepted, but only after the fund was placed under independent oversight.
Mrs. Carter helped me choose the first recipients.
One was a young father who needed transportation to take his daughter to a specialist. Another was an older woman whose medication costs had become impossible to manage.
Every time we approved a grant, I thought about my mother waiting for me.
I couldn't change what happened to her.
But perhaps someone else would get the help they needed in time.
Luca attended the fund's opening in a modest community center. He stood beside me while I spoke.
“I used to think asking for help meant I had failed,” I told the small audience. “My mother taught me that accepting help can be an act of courage. No family should have to beg for compassion.”
Afterward, Luca stood beside me near the entrance.
“You sounded like her,” he said.
I smiled.
“I hope that's a good thing.”
“It is.”
We began having dinner together once a week.
At first, the conversations were awkward. We knew almost nothing about each other's habits. Luca learned that I hated olives. I learned that he drank coffee without sugar and forgot to eat when he was working.
We argued about music, laughed about old photographs, and slowly built something that neither of us had expected.
One evening, I asked him whether he was angry with our father.
“Yes.”
“Still?”
“Probably always will be.”
I looked down at my hands.
“Me too.”
He nodded.
May you like
“We don't have to forgive him to stop letting what he did decide our lives.”
I thought about that for a long time.
