Chapter 2 - THE ROOM WITH THE BLUE CURTAINS
Sofia did not sleep until nearly three in the morning.
Every time Emily thought the girl had drifted off, she would open her eyes and ask a question she had been holding inside.
“Is Vanessa really gone?”
“She’s in the east guest suite,” Emily answered. “Your dad’s making arrangements with his lawyer. She won’t come into your room.”
“Can she make them send me to Switzerland?”
“No.”
Sofia studied her face. “You said that very fast.”
Emily pulled the chair closer to the bed. The room was lit by a small lamp shaped like a moon. Blue curtains hung around the windows, and the shelves held books, model horses, and a collection of tiny glass animals Sofia had once arranged by color. Before the accident, she had loved climbing the staircase two steps at a time to show people her latest drawing. Now she watched the room as if she were afraid it might change while she slept.
“I said it fast because your dad has made it clear that he will not sign anything sending you away,” Emily said. “And your doctors will make decisions based on your care, not on what Vanessa wants.”
“What if the doctors say I can’t walk?”
“Then we listen to them and ask what can help you. But nobody gets to punish you for the answer.”
Sofia turned toward the window. “Vanessa said if I tried too hard, I would fall and make Daddy feel guilty. She said he had enough problems and I should stop making him worry.”
Emily felt anger rise in her chest. She kept her voice gentle.
“Your father worries because he loves you. That is not your fault.”
“What if I never walk normally?”
“Then you’ll still be Sofia. You’ll still be funny and bossy and terrible at keeping secrets.”
“I’m not terrible at keeping secrets.”
“You told me you hid three chocolate biscuits in your bedside drawer.”
“That was different.”
Emily smiled. Sofia gave a small laugh, then pressed a hand to her thigh.
“Does it hurt?” Emily asked.
“A little. Mostly it’s tired.”
“Then we stop talking and let you rest.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Yes.”
The answer was not a promise about the future. It was a promise about the next few hours, and that was the kind Emily knew she could keep.
When Sofia finally slept, Emily went downstairs to the staff kitchen. She expected to find the house deserted, but Luca stood at the counter in shirtsleeves, staring at a cup of coffee that had gone cold. His tie was loose, and his dark hair had fallen across his forehead. Without the dinner guests around him, he looked less like the man whose name made people lower their voices and more like a father who had just discovered how much of his child’s life he had missed.
“Is she asleep?” he asked.
“For now.”
He nodded and rubbed a hand over his face.
“I should have known.”
Emily sat at the far end of the counter. “You trusted Vanessa.”
“I trusted her with my daughter.”
The correction landed between them.
“I work here every day,” Emily said carefully. “I saw Sofia getting stronger, but I didn’t know how to tell you without making it sound like I was criticizing your fiancée. She made it clear that my job depended on staying in my place.”
Luca’s eyes sharpened. “Did she threaten you before tonight?”
“Not directly. She would change my schedule if Sofia asked for me. She told the other staff I was too attached. Once she said I should be grateful to have a job in a house like this.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
Emily almost laughed. “Because I clean your house, Mr. Moretti. You have lawyers and security and people who speak to you in private rooms. I have a mother who needs her medication paid for. I couldn’t risk being dismissed because I made a powerful woman angry.”
Luca absorbed that without interrupting. Then he set his cold coffee aside.
“I’m sorry I made this house a place where you thought you had to choose between your conscience and your livelihood.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have made it easier to tell me.”
He took a folded document from the counter. “My attorney is coming at seven. I want you to give a statement about what you saw and heard. You’ll be paid for the time you spend with the investigators, and your job is not in question. If you decide you’d rather leave, I’ll provide a fair reference and pay everything you’re owed. But I would like you to stay, if you’re comfortable doing so.”
Emily looked at the paper, then at him.
“I’ll stay for Sofia. I don’t want a reward.”
“It isn’t a reward. It’s wages for your work.”
“I’m not asking for extra money.”
“Then I won’t give you extra money. But I will not let anyone threaten your job for telling the truth.”
For the first time, she saw that his apology was not only a sentence. He was changing the terms of the conversation, giving her options instead of deciding what would make her feel grateful.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded, then looked toward the dark staircase.
“I was there when the hospital called after the accident. I remember the doctor saying she might recover some movement, but they couldn't promise how much. I heard the uncertainty and turned it into a sentence I could survive: she will get better. Then the first months were hard, and every time she cried, I thought I was failing her.”
“You were frightened.”
“I was absent. I hired people to manage the things I couldn’t bear to face. Vanessa knew how to sound certain. I let her certainty become the truth.”
Emily thought of the therapy sessions Sofia had practiced in secret. “Sofia didn’t need you to know everything. She needed you to keep showing up.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “I know that now.”
A soft sound came from the staircase. They turned to see Sofia standing at the landing, holding the rail with both hands. Her pajama trousers were loose around her ankles, and her face was pale with effort.
“Sweetheart,” Luca said, moving toward her. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“I heard voices.”
“Come here. I’ll help you.”
She shook her head. “I want to try the rail.”
Emily rose but did not approach. She had learned that rushing to catch Sofia could sometimes make the girl feel as if everyone expected her to fall. Luca stopped two steps away.
“Do you want me close, or do you want space?”
“Close. But don’t pick me up unless I ask.”
“All right.”
Sofia shifted her weight, moved one hand along the rail, and brought her foot forward. Her knee trembled. She stopped, breathed, and tried again. The distance was only a few inches, but the effort showed in the tightness around her mouth.
When she reached the bottom step, Luca offered his hand. She took it and leaned against him, exhausted.
“You did it,” he whispered.
“Only because the rail is here.”
“Rails are allowed.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Vanessa said needing help meant I wasn’t really improving.”
“Vanessa was wrong.”
Sofia’s eyes filled again, but this time she did not look ashamed. Luca kissed her forehead and helped her into the chair waiting by the stairs.
“Tomorrow we’ll talk with your therapist,” he said. “Tonight you need sleep.”
“Can Emily come too?”
Emily smiled. “I’m right behind you.”
They settled Sofia into bed again. Luca stayed until her breathing evened out, then sat in the chair beside the window. He did not check his phone. He did not call a business associate. He simply watched his daughter sleep.
Emily stood by the doorway, thinking of the mansion’s grand rooms and the expensive things inside them. None of it had protected Sofia from being made to feel like a burden. The only thing that had helped her tonight was the moment her father finally listened.
As Emily turned off the lamp, Sofia reached from beneath the blanket and caught her hand.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered, “will you help me tell the therapist what happened?”
“Of course.”
“And you won’t let them make it sound like I’m lying?”
Emily squeezed her fingers gently.
“No one gets to tell your story for you while you’re sitting right there.”
Sofia closed her eyes.
Downstairs, Luca began making calls that would change the household. The wedding planner would be contacted. The Bellini investment would be suspended. Sofia’s records would be secured. An independent review would begin before lunch.
But in the blue-curtained room, the most important thing was smaller.
May you like
A child who had spent months being told to lower her hopes had asked to try again tomorrow.
And for the first time in seven months, nobody was going to stop her. She smiled.
