Chapter 1 - The Mother Who Wasn't Supposed to Exist
MY DAUGHTER GRADUATED FROM HIGH SCHOOL AT SIX O'CLOCK. AT EIGHT, I WAS STILL SERVING THE MAFIA BOSS'S ENGAGEMENT DINNER—AND HIS FIANCÉE WAS TELLING THIRTY GUESTS I HADN'T BOTHERED TO SHOW UP. BUT WHEN MY DAUGHTER WALKED INTO THE RESTAURANT WEARING HER CAP AND GOWN, LUCA PUT DOWN HIS GLASS.
“Take that flower off your uniform, Caroline.”
Vanessa Bellini pointed toward the small white carnation pinned to my apron.
Thirty guests were seated beneath the chandeliers of the Moretti family's historic Italian restaurant in Chicago.
“Mrs. Bellini, please. My daughter gave it to me.”
Vanessa laughed.
“That's sweet. But we're celebrating an engagement, not somebody's high school graduation.”
I lowered my eyes.
“I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“Then take it off.”
My fingers moved toward the flower.
But I couldn't bring myself to remove it.
My name is Caroline Hayes.
I'm thirty-seven years old, a housemaid at the Moretti estate, and the mother of an eighteen-year-old girl named Emma.
Her father died when she was ten.
For eight years, it had been just the two of us.
I'd cleaned houses, worked weekend catering jobs, and sometimes fallen asleep at our kitchen table while helping her study.
Emma never complained.
When she was fourteen, she started babysitting so she could buy her own school clothes.
Last month, she was accepted into nursing school.
And tonight, she was graduating with honors.
I'd promised her I'd be there.
Three weeks earlier, I'd asked Vanessa for the evening off.
She'd smiled.
“Of course, Caroline. A mother shouldn't miss her daughter's graduation.”
But yesterday afternoon, she changed her mind.
She said the engagement dinner was short-staffed.
She needed me.
And if I didn't work, she couldn't promise my position would still be available Monday.
I needed my health insurance.
My mother had been staying with us while recovering from surgery.
And Emma's first tuition payment was due in August.
So I put on my uniform.
And missed the one evening I'd been looking forward to for eighteen years.
“Caroline!”
Vanessa snapped her fingers.
“Are you listening?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Then stop standing there looking miserable.”
I picked up the coffee pot.
Vanessa smiled toward the guests.
“Honestly, some people would rather complain about working than be grateful they have a job.”
My cheeks burned.
Then she added something that made my hands go cold.
“Caroline's daughter graduated tonight. Apparently, she decided the overtime was more important.”
I stopped pouring.
“That's not true.”
Vanessa slowly turned.
“Excuse me?”
“I asked to leave early.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Are you contradicting me in front of my guests?”
I swallowed.
“No, ma'am.”
“Then apologize.”
Before I could answer, a chair moved at the head of the table.
“Apologize for what?”
Luca Moretti had stopped speaking to his uncle.
Thirty-eight years old.
Dark swept-back hair.
Black three-piece suit, tattoos visible along his neck and hands.
Vanessa immediately laughed.
“Darling, Caroline is upset about missing her daughter's graduation. I offered her the evening off, but she wanted the extra hours.”
Luca looked toward me.
“Caroline?”
My stomach tightened.
“Yes, sir?”
“Your daughter graduated tonight?”
I nodded.
He frowned.
“Why are you here?”
Vanessa reached for his arm.
“Luca, I just explained.”
But he wasn't looking at her.
“Caroline, did you ask for the evening off?”
I hesitated.
Vanessa was watching me.
“Yes, sir. Three weeks ago.”
“Was it approved?”
“Yes.”
Luca slowly turned toward his fiancée.
“Then why is she working?”
Vanessa sighed.
“We had a staffing problem.”
He looked toward the restaurant manager.
“Marco, did we?”
Marco hesitated.
“No, boss. I offered to cover her shift myself.”
The room went quiet.
Luca looked back at Vanessa.
“Then why wasn't she allowed to leave?”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Because somebody has to teach employees that commitments matter.”
Luca stared at her.
Then he looked at the little white flower on my apron.
“Caroline, where did you get that?”
My eyes filled.
“Emma gave it to me this morning.”
He nodded.
“And you promised her you'd be there?”
I couldn't speak.
I just nodded.
For a moment, Luca looked down at his hands.
Then he quietly said, “My mother missed my eighth-grade graduation because she was working a double shift downstairs.”
I looked at him.
He gave a sad smile.
“She cried about it for years. I never cared about the ceremony. I just wanted her there.”
Vanessa sighed.
“Luca, you're making this unnecessarily emotional.”
He turned toward her.
“You had thirty people coming to celebrate you tonight. Caroline's daughter only wanted one.”
Nobody spoke.
Then the dining room doors opened.
“Mom?”
I knew that voice.
I turned.
And there was Emma.
Standing in the doorway wearing her navy graduation gown.
Her cap was crooked.
Her mascara had run.
And she was holding a small bouquet of white carnations.
“Emma?”
I set down the coffee pot.
She looked at my uniform.
Then at my face.
“Mom, why are you crying?”
I hurried toward her.
She threw her arms around me.
For a moment, I forgot there were thirty strangers watching.
“I'm sorry, baby,” I whispered. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there.”
Emma pulled away.
“But Mom, Vanessa said you didn't want to come.”
I froze.
“What?”
She wiped her cheeks.
“She told me you volunteered to work tonight because you didn't think graduation was a big deal.”
My heart stopped.
I looked toward Vanessa.
She was staring at her champagne glass.
Luca had already stood.
“Vanessa?”
She forced a laugh.
“Emma must have misunderstood.”
But my daughter shook her head.
“No, ma'am.”
Her voice trembled.
“You came to my school this afternoon.”
Luca slowly turned.
“You went to Emma's school?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“The Moretti Foundation sponsored a student award. I presented it before the ceremony.”
I looked at Emma.
“You never told me.”
My daughter began crying.
“Because she said you already knew.”
Luca stepped closer.
“What did she tell you, Emma?”
My daughter hesitated.
Then she looked at me.
“Mom, she told everyone you weren't part of my life anymore.”
The dining room went completely silent.
I felt my knees weaken.
Emma caught my hand.
“She gave a speech about helping girls who grow up without parents.”
Luca's expression changed.
“And she used Emma as an example?”
My daughter nodded.
“She said she was proud to support a girl who'd learned to take care of herself because she didn't have a mother to depend on.”
I covered my mouth.
Eight years.
Eight years of raising my daughter alone.
Working double shifts.
Packing lunches.
Sitting beside her when she was sick.
And Vanessa had stood on a stage and told strangers I hadn't been there.
Luca looked toward his fiancée.
His voice was shaking.
“You made this woman miss her daughter's graduation so you could stand onstage and pretend you'd rescued her child?”
Vanessa whispered, “I was trying to raise money for the foundation.”
Emma suddenly tightened her grip on my hand.
“Mom, there's something else.”
I turned toward her.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
She looked at Luca.
Then back at Vanessa.
“The scholarship they gave me tonight…”
Her voice broke.
“I don't think I'm supposed to have it.”
Luca frowned.
“Why not?”
Emma swallowed.
“Because Vanessa told the school I was an orphan.”
Nobody moved.
Luca slowly looked toward his fiancée.
“Vanessa, what exactly did you tell the scholarship committee?”
She didn't answer.
Emma began crying harder.
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“Mom, I tried to correct her before the ceremony. She told me that if I said you were still alive, they'd take my nursing-school scholarship away.”
Luca stared at Vanessa.
Then he looked at the graduation flowers still trembling in my daughter's hands.
May you like
And asked the question that silenced the entire restaurant.
“Vanessa, whose money did you use to buy this girl's silence—and what happens to her scholarship if she tells the truth?”
