Chapter 3 - The Sister My Mother Never Told Me About
I did not sit at table seven.
I made Dante move.
Not because I had power.
Because if my life was going to disintegrate, it was not happening beside a bottle of Amarone while wealthy strangers pretended not to listen.
Mr. Carrillo gave us his office.
Dante entered carrying Leo.
The gray-bearded man followed.
His name was Luca Moretti.
Not that Moretti.
Apparently Boston had an unlimited supply of dangerous Italian surnames.
I remained standing.
“So talk.”
Dante looked at me.
“You really are related to her.”
I hated that immediately.
“Do not decide that because I’m rude.”
A muscle moved in Luca’s cheek.
Dante almost smiled.
Then it vanished.
“Sofia was adopted.”
I stopped.
Dante continued.
“She found out when she was twenty-nine.”
Four years earlier.
Her adoptive parents had both died.
While sorting estate documents, she found the original sealed adoption paperwork.
Birth mother:
Rosalia Marino.
My mother’s name had been Rosa Valdez my entire life.
Rosalia.
Rosa.
My skin prickled.
“Sofia started looking.”
“For my mother?”
“For Rosalia.”
Dante shifted Leo carefully against his shoulder.
“She found her.”
“When?”
“Ten months ago.”
My knees weakened.
Eight months before Mom disappeared.
“What?”
Dante continued.
“They met several times.”
“In secret.”
“Why secret?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because Sofia was afraid.”
“Of you?”
That landed.
He looked down.
“Partly.”
Interesting.
Luca shifted.
Dante ignored him.
“Sofia knew what my family was.”
“Is.”
He met my eyes.
“Yes.”
Good.
No pretending.
“She did not want to involve Rosalia until she understood whether the reunion was real.”
I laughed bitterly.
“My mother apparently had no trouble involving herself without telling me.”
Dante let that sit.
Then:
“Rosalia told Sofia she had another daughter.”
My heart pounded.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“Did Sofia know my name?”
“Alina.”
I closed my eyes.
The room blurred.
My mother had known.
Not only that she gave up a daughter before me.
She had found her again.
And still said nothing.
“Why?”
I whispered.
Dante answered:
“I don’t know.”
That honesty hurt more than speculation.
Then Leo stirred.
His hand reached toward me again.
Not wildly now.
Just open.
I stared at him.
Dante noticed.
“He used to pull at Sofia’s necklace whenever she fed him.”
There.
That explained it.
Not magic.
Not blood instinct.
Memory.
Leo knew the pendant.
His mother had worn the matching piece every day.
“And the A?”
I pointed to Dante’s necklace.
“Sofia gave it to me.”
“Why?”
His eyes changed.
“Alina.”
My breath stopped.
“What?”
“She found your name before she died.”
Died.
The word arrived properly for the first time.
“What happened to her?”
Dante looked at Luca.
Luca looked away.
That told me enough to become afraid.
“Officially?”
Dante said.
“Car accident.”
“Unofficially?”
“We don’t believe it.”
My stomach turned.
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
I looked at Leo.
Nine months old.
His mother had been alive until six weeks ago.
That was why he remembered the pendant so clearly.
The grief of it punched through everything else.
“What happened?”
“Sofia left a meeting at our attorney’s office.”
“What meeting?”
Dante hesitated.
Wrong move.
I pointed at him.
“Do not protect me with missing information.”
Something shifted in his face.
Then he nodded.
“She was changing Leo’s trust.”
“Why?”
“To remove members of my family from control if anything happened to us.”
I stared.
“Why would she do that?”
Dante looked at Luca again.
This time Luca answered.
“Because Mrs. Rosselli believed someone inside the family was using the businesses to move money illegally.”
I laughed once.
“You’re telling me the mafia family had illegal money problems?”
Luca almost smiled despite himself.
Dante did not.
“Different problem.”
He leaned forward.
“Rosselli Maritime has legitimate operations.”
“Ports.”
“Freight.”
“Construction.”
“It also has history I’m not going to insult you by sanitizing.”
Good.
“Sofia discovered somebody was moving weapons through two shipping routes I had ordered closed.”
My skin crawled.
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
That answer stopped me.
Dante continued.
“I know who benefited.”
“My uncle Carlo.”
“CFO Vincent Hale.”
“Two port supervisors.”
“But I do not yet know who ordered Sofia followed.”
I thought of Mom.
Eight months.
Gone.
“Sofia met my mother two months before Mom disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“Did my mother know about the shipping?”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“We think so.”
My heart dropped.
“How?”
“Sofia wrote your mother’s name in a notebook.”
“Then why didn’t you find her?”
“We tried.”
“You’re Dante Rosselli.”
Anger broke through.
“You own half the city.”
“Everyone acts terrified when you walk into a restaurant.”
“And you’re telling me you couldn’t find one fifty-two-year-old woman for eight months?”
The room froze.
Luca watched Dante.
I waited for rage.
Instead, Dante said:
“You’re right.”
That took the air out of me.
“What?”
“I failed.”
No defense.
“We found her car in Providence.”
“Phone inside.”
“No blood.”
“No body.”
“A camera caught her entering a bus terminal.”
“Nothing after.”
My eyes burned.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
“We did not know you existed.”
“Sofia knew.”
“She had your first name.”
“No surname.”
“No address.”
“Rosalia refused to give her more.”
That was my mother.
Even during reunion, still protecting me through secrecy.
Or controlling the truth.
Maybe both.
Then Dante reached into his coat slowly.
He removed a photograph.
Sofia.
My breath left.
She looked like me.
Not identical.
But enough.
Same cheekbones.
Same thick dark hair.
Same slightly crooked smile.
Her eyes were lighter.
Green.
Like Mom.
She held Leo in the photograph.
The pendant rested against her chest.
S.
I sat without deciding to.
“Why did my mother give me the other necklace?”
Dante shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Then:
“But Sofia believed the A stood for Alina.”
My eyes filled.
“She was looking for me.”
“Yes.”
“And she died before she found me.”
Dante said nothing.
I hated him for the silence.
Then he whispered:
“She found you.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“The night before she died.”
Dante removed his phone.
One saved message.
From Sofia.
I read.
I found her. The restaurant is Aurelia. Her name is Alina Valdez. Don’t go near her yet. I need to talk to Mama first.
Mama.
My mother.
My dead sister had called her Mama.
I covered my mouth.
Then another line:
And Dante, if anything happens to me, Leo needs to know he has an aunt.
I broke.
Not gracefully.
Not quietly.
Twenty-eight years of being an only child ended in a manager’s office with the discovery that I had been somebody’s sister for my entire life.
And she had died six weeks before I learned her name.
May you like
Leo started crying when I did.
That somehow made it worse.
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