Chapter 3 - What Sophia Saw
For seven years, nobody in the Moretti mansion spoke about the night Elena Moretti died.
Officially, it had been an accident.
A car.
Rain.
A winding road outside Lake Forest.
A vehicle that crossed the center line.
A collision.
By the time Santiago reached the hospital, his mother was dead.
Sophia survived.
Physically.
She was twelve.
After that night, she never spoke again.
Santiago had spent seven years believing trauma had taken his sister’s voice.
Now Sophia sat on the carpet with Ruby beside her while Santiago stood across the room.
“What does she remember?”
Ruby signed to Sophia.
Sophia answered.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
Ruby’s expression tightened.
“She remembers being in the car.”
“I know that.”
“She remembers your mother arguing with someone before they left.”
“Who?”
Sophia signed.
Ruby hesitated.
“Uncle Carlo.”
Santiago went still.
Carlo Moretti.
His father’s younger brother.
A man Santiago had trusted since childhood.
A man who had stood beside him at their mother’s funeral.
“That’s impossible.”
Sophia’s hands moved sharply.
Ruby translated.
“She says she heard Carlo tell your mother that she had found something she wasn’t supposed to find.”
Santiago’s breathing slowed.
“What?”
Sophia shook her head.
She did not know.
Then she made another sign.
Ruby frowned.
“Your mother put something in Sophia’s coat.”
Santiago looked toward his sister.
“What?”
Sophia touched her chest.
Then mimed removing something.
“A key,” Ruby said.
“What key?”
Sophia did not know.
After the crash, someone had taken it.
Santiago crouched.
For the first time, he positioned himself at Sophia’s eye level.
“Who?”
Sophia looked at him.
Then signed one word.
Ruby did not immediately translate.
“Ruby.”
Ruby’s eyes met Santiago’s.
“Carlo.”
Silence.
Santiago stood.
His face became cold.
Ruby recognized the transformation.
The brother disappeared.
The man Chicago feared returned.
“Where are you going?”
“To speak to my uncle.”
Sophia grabbed his wrist.
Santiago looked down.
She shook her head violently.
Then signed.
Ruby translated.
“She says that’s what he expects you to do.”
Santiago stared at Sophia.
Another sign.
“She says your mother told her something before the crash.”
“What?”
Sophia’s hands trembled.
Ruby watched carefully.
Then her eyes widened.
“She told Sophia, ‘If anything happens to me, Santiago must not trust the family.’”
Santiago felt the room tilt beneath him.
The family.
His entire life had been built around that word.
Family meant loyalty.
Family meant blood.
Family meant survival.
But his mother had apparently used it as a warning.
Ruby touched Sophia’s hand gently.
Sophia began signing again.
This time she described the crash.
Rain striking the windshield.
Her mother driving.
Headlights behind them.
A black SUV.
Following too closely.
Then pulling alongside.
Sophia remembered her mother screaming.
A second vehicle appeared.
The car left the road.
Metal.
Glass.
Darkness.
When Sophia woke, she was trapped.
Her mother was unconscious.
A man opened Sophia’s door.
Carlo.
He reached inside.
Not to rescue her.
To search her coat.
He removed the key.
Then he told her something.
Sophia stopped signing.
Her entire body shook.
Ruby leaned closer.
“You don’t have to continue.”
Sophia shook her head.
She wanted to.
Her fingers moved.
Ruby’s face went white.
Santiago’s voice dropped.
“What did he say?”
Ruby looked at him.
“He told her, ‘Good girls forget what they see.’”
Santiago turned away.
He walked toward the window.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he pulled out his phone.
“Tomas.”
“Yes?”
“Carlo. Everything he has done for the last ten years.”
A pause.
“Santiago—”
“Everything.”
He ended the call.
Ruby watched him.
“You believe her?”
Santiago turned.
“She’s my sister.”
Ruby’s expression softened.
That answer mattered.
Over the following days, the Moretti mansion changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
Ruby returned to her room.
Sophia ate again.
And every evening at seven, Santiago sat across from Ruby for sign-language lessons.
He hated being bad at something.
Ruby discovered this almost immediately.
“No.”
Santiago frowned.
“I did exactly what you did.”
“You told Sophia she was a refrigerator.”
Sophia silently collapsed with laughter.
Santiago glared at her.
Ruby tried not to laugh.
“Again.”
He repeated the movement.
“Better.”
“What did I say?”
“Now you said she’s stubborn.”
Sophia nodded enthusiastically.
Santiago stared at his sister.
Then something unexpected happened.
He smiled.
Not much.
But Sophia saw it.
Her expression changed.
Seven years of distance began shrinking one clumsy sign at a time.
Meanwhile, Tomas investigated Carlo.
The results were disturbing.
Money had disappeared from several Moretti-controlled companies before Elena’s death.
Millions.
Transactions hidden through shell corporations.
Santiago’s mother had been an accountant before marrying into the Moretti family.
She had discovered the theft.
Carlo had motive.
But there was no proof of murder.
Then Tomas found something else.
A storage unit.
Registered under Elena’s maiden name.
It had been paid automatically for nineteen years.
Santiago, Ruby, Sophia, and Tomas went there after midnight.
Inside were boxes.
Photographs.
Old records.
Accounting books.
And a locked steel case.
Sophia immediately pointed at it.
The missing key.
Santiago forced the lock.
Inside were documents.
Ledgers.
Bank records.
Photographs.
Enough evidence to expose years of financial crimes.
But underneath everything was an envelope.
Santiago opened it.
His name was written across the front.
Inside was a letter from his mother.
He read silently.
Then stopped.
Ruby watched his face.
“What?”
Santiago handed her the letter.
Elena had known she was in danger.
She had collected evidence against Carlo.
But the final paragraph concerned Sophia.
If anything happened to Elena, she wanted Santiago to protect Sophia.
Not hide her.
Not isolate her.
Protect her by helping her speak in whatever way she could.
Santiago sat down.
For seven years, he had done the opposite.
Sophia touched his shoulder.
He looked at her.
Slowly, awkwardly, Santiago signed:
I am sorry.
Sophia’s eyes filled with tears.
She answered.
Ruby did not translate.
Santiago understood this one himself.
I know.
He pulled his sister into his arms.
Ruby looked away, giving them privacy.
Then Tomas’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“Santiago.”
“What?”
Tomas held out the phone.
Security footage filled the screen.
A black SUV had stopped outside Ruby’s apartment.
Two men entered the building.
They searched her room.
Then one of them looked directly into a hallway camera.
Santiago recognized him.
Carlo’s driver.
Ruby stared at the screen.
“Why would Carlo search my apartment?”
Nobody answered.
Then Tomas zoomed in on the image.
One of the men carried something from Ruby’s room.
An old notebook.
Ruby’s face lost all color.
Santiago noticed.
“What was in that notebook?”
Ruby did not answer.
“Ruby.”
She looked at him.
And Santiago suddenly understood.
Whatever Carlo wanted had nothing to do with Sophia.
May you like
It had something to do with the secret Ruby had been hiding for three years.
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