Chapter 8 - The Truth About Eva Changed Everything We Believed
Just when we thought the war was over, my father's old friend contacted me.
He had a box.
Inside was a letter.
From Eva.
It had been mailed before her death.
The letter said:
Lena,
If you ever receive this, it means Matteo knows the truth.
Trust him.
But don't trust the version of my death everyone gave you.
I didn't die because I knew too much.
I died because I had already told someone everything.
Someone I believed was safe.
The name was missing.
The final page had been torn away.
We searched.
The missing page was hidden in the back of my father's Bible.
It contained one word.
Mother.
My mother had known.
She had been part of the same investigation.
She had not died accidentally.
She had been killed.
The same network.
The same people.
Our family had been hunted for decades.
Matteo held me while I cried.
“I thought I'd lost everyone.”
“You didn't.”
“I lost my mother.”
“You found me.”
I looked at him.
“You can't replace them.”
“I know.”
“But you can help me remember them.”
“Yes.”
We created a memorial.
Eva.
My mother.
Matteo's mother.
Every woman who had disappeared.
Every nurse.
Every doctor.
Every person whose name had been erased.
Their photographs were placed in a public hall.
People came.
Stories were told.
The truth became public.
The city finally knew.
The Vitalis and Duca families had been responsible for a medical corruption network.
Not everything was criminal anymore.
But the past mattered.
Matteo testified.
His name was stripped of immunity.
He spent months in hearings.
He never asked for special treatment.
When the prosecutor asked him why, he answered:
“Because the people my family hurt didn't get special treatment.”
He received a reduced sentence because of his cooperation.
But he had to step away from some businesses.
We did not care.
We had built enough.
We had each other.
One day, I visited him.
He was sitting in the hearing room.
I took his hand.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Scared?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
“You always say strange things.”
“It keeps you humble.”
He laughed.
When the final verdict came, he was cleared of the murders but forced to relinquish control over several organizations.
He walked out of court free.
I was waiting.
He looked at me.
“I thought you might leave.”
I stepped closer.
“You know better.”
He touched my cheek.
“You choose me.”
“I do.”
Then he kissed me.
May you like
Outside, reporters shouted.
But for once, neither of us cared.
