Chapter 6 - The Four-Year-Old Had Spoken to My Dead Wife Without Understanding Who She Was—and Led Me to a Woman No One Had Seen in Eight YearsI took Mia seriously.
Not because I believed a four-year-old could recognize a ghost.
Because children notice what adults ignore.
Mia led me to the old greenhouse.
It had been locked for years.
Inside was dust.
Broken flowerpots.
Dead vines.
And one chair.
A blanket.
Still warm.
My heart stopped.
Someone had been living there.
Recently.
Behind a cabinet, we found medical supplies.
Food.
Water.
Medicine.
And a photograph.
Chiara.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
My knees nearly collapsed.
Valentina covered her mouth.
"Dante."
I couldn't speak.
Then someone moved behind us.
I turned.
A woman stood in the shadows.
Short hair.
Pale face.
A scar near her jaw.
Chiara.
My wife.
Alive.
For eight years, I had mourned her.
For eight years, I had blamed myself.
For eight years, I had believed I had failed her.
She looked at me.
"Dante."
I couldn't move.
She took one step closer.
I whispered:
"Are you real?"
She smiled through tears.
"I'm sorry."
I crossed the room.
Then stopped.
I didn't know whether to touch her.
She closed the distance.
Her hand reached my face.
I grabbed her.
She cried against my chest.
Valentina turned away.
"I thought you were dead."
Chiara looked at her.
"You were supposed to."
Valentina cried.
"I couldn't do it."
"I know."
I pulled away.
"Why didn't you come home?"
"Because your father controlled everything."
"Where were you?"
"Running."
"With whom?"
"A network of people who were trying to free the children."
She explained.
The car accident had been staged.
A body had been substituted.
She disappeared into witness protection.
But she couldn't contact me.
Our family was monitored.
Every phone.
Every bank account.
Every employee.
She had watched me from a distance.
She had even visited the estate.
The fresh dust beneath the piano?
Her.
She had returned three months earlier.
She hid the cassette there.
Valentina had found her.
That's why the footage was deleted.
But Valentina hadn't betrayed her.
She had been trying to protect her.
The real enemy was our father.
I stared at Chiara.
"Where is he?"
She looked toward the east.
"Under the city."
My stomach tightened.
"He's building something."
"What?"
"A permanent facility."
"For the children?"
"No."
May you like
She looked at me.
"For you."
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