Chapter 1 - The Bell Nobody Answered
“TAKE THAT LITTLE BELL AWAY FROM HER! SHE'S NOT A QUEEN, AND I'M NOT HAVING HER SUMMON SERVANTS THROUGH MY ENGAGEMENT DINNER!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 25-YEAR-OLD MAID FOR HELPING HIS 78-YEAR-OLD MOTHER—BUT WHEN TERESA MORETTI GRABBED THE MAID'S HAND AND WHISPERED, “I RANG ALL NIGHT, BUT NOBODY CAME,” LUCA SLOWLY PUT DOWN HIS GLASS.
“Give me that bell, Hannah.”
Vanessa Bellini stood beside the dining table in a fitted red silk gown, staring at the small brass bell in seventy-eight-year-old Teresa Moretti's trembling hand.
Thirty-six guests watched beneath the crystal chandeliers.
“Mrs. Moretti wanted to keep it beside her plate,” I explained.
Vanessa laughed.
“Oh, sweetheart. She's not royalty. She doesn't need to ring a bell every time she wants someone to bring her a glass of water.”
Teresa lowered her eyes.
“I wasn't going to ring it.”
“Then why are you holding it?”
The old woman's fingers tightened around the brass handle.
“Because it makes me feel better.”
Vanessa sighed.
“Honestly, Teresa. You're seventy-eight years old. It's time you stopped expecting everyone to come running whenever you need something.”
Teresa looked down.
“I'm sorry.”
Those two words made my chest hurt.
Because Teresa Moretti had spent most of her life answering other people's calls for help.
Three sons.
A husband who'd been ill for years.
Grandchildren who came running to her whenever they were frightened.
Now she was apologizing for wanting someone to answer her.
My name is Hannah Collins. I'm twenty-five years old, and I've worked at the Moretti mansion in Chicago for eleven months.
I needed this job.
My mother was recovering from hip surgery, and every paycheck helped pay for the home aide who visited her each morning.
Vanessa knew that.
She'd already warned me twice about spending too much time with Teresa.
But something had been troubling me for nearly two weeks.
Every morning, Teresa asked whether I had heard her bell during the night.
Every morning, I had to tell her no.
And every morning, she looked a little more frightened.
Until yesterday, when I discovered why.
“Hannah.”
Vanessa snapped her fingers.
“Take it away.”
Teresa caught my wrist.
“Please, sweetheart. Just let me keep it.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Teresa, if you need something, you can ask like everyone else.”
The old woman's lips trembled.
“But sometimes nobody can hear me.”
Vanessa laughed.
“That's because people are sleeping. You can't expect the entire household to stay awake because you're lonely.”
Several guests looked away.
I felt my face grow hot.
“Mrs. Bellini,” I said quietly, “she only wants it nearby.”
Vanessa turned toward me.
“Excuse me?”
“She's not disturbing anyone.”
Her smile disappeared.
“You're a housekeeper, Hannah. Not her personal companion.”
“I understand.”
“Then stop encouraging this ridiculous behavior.”
Teresa gently pulled at my sleeve.
“It's all right, sweetheart. Don't get yourself into trouble.”
But Vanessa wasn't finished.
“If you insist on disobeying me, you can pack your bags tonight.”
My stomach tightened.
I thought about my mother's medical bills.
The overdue electricity payment.
The groceries I'd promised to bring her on Saturday.
Then I looked at Teresa.
And placed the little brass bell beside her plate.
“I'll leave it here, Mrs. Moretti.”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Hannah, did you just ignore me?”
A chair moved at the head of the table.
“Why is Hannah being fired?”
Luca Moretti had stopped speaking to his uncle.
Thirty-six years old. Dark hair. Black tailored suit.
His voice was calm.
But the room immediately quieted.
Vanessa reached for his arm.
“Darling, your mother has been ringing that ridiculous bell constantly. Hannah keeps encouraging her instead of helping her become more independent.”
Luca looked toward Teresa.
“Mom?”
She tried to smile.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
He walked around the table.
Then he noticed the bell.
His expression softened.
“Is that Dad's old bell?”
Teresa nodded.
“He bought it after my knee surgery.”
Luca smiled.
“I remember. He said you only had to ring once and he'd come running.”
A faint smile crossed her face.
“He always did.”
Luca pulled out the chair beside her.
“Then why are you keeping it at dinner?”
Teresa's smile disappeared.
She folded her napkin.
Once.
Then again.
The same nervous movement I'd watched her make whenever Vanessa entered her bedroom.
“Mom?”
The old woman looked toward me.
I knew what she wanted.
But I was frightened to say it.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “your mother has been worried about being alone at night.”
Vanessa immediately interrupted.
“Luca, your mother has a caregiver. There's absolutely no reason for Hannah to make this sound so dramatic.”
Luca turned toward her.
“Of course Mom has a caregiver.”
Then he looked at Teresa.
“Mom, isn't someone staying with you overnight?”
The old woman's eyes filled.
“Not anymore, sweetheart.”
Luca stopped moving.
“What?”
Vanessa quickly smiled.
“We've been adjusting the schedule. Teresa has been doing much better.”
Luca frowned.
“I hired Patricia to stay with Mom every night.”
“She was no longer necessary.”
“Who decided that?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“We discussed reducing the amount of help.”
Luca spoke quietly.
“We discussed Mom becoming more independent during the day.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“It's the same thing.”
“No,” Luca said. “It isn't.”
He turned back toward Teresa.
“Mom, how long have you been alone at night?”
The old woman looked down.
“I don't know exactly.”
I swallowed.
“Thirteen nights, sir.”
Nobody moved.
Luca slowly looked at me.
“Thirteen?”
I nodded.
“Patricia stopped coming almost two weeks ago.”
Vanessa's voice sharpened.
“Hannah, that's enough.”
But Luca didn't look away.
“Why wasn't I told?”
My hands trembled.
“Because I was told you wanted your mother to stop depending on people.”
Luca turned toward Vanessa.
“Did you say that?”
She sighed.
“Your mother was becoming far too attached to the staff.”
Teresa suddenly whispered, “I wasn't.”
Luca immediately looked back.
“Mom?”
Her eyes filled.
“I only rang when I really needed someone.”
Something changed in his face.
“What happened when you rang?”
Teresa stared at her hands.
“Sometimes I waited.”
“How long?”
She hesitated.
Then looked toward me.
“Hannah?”
My heart began pounding.
Because yesterday morning, I'd found Teresa sitting beside her bed.
Still wearing the cardigan she'd put on the previous evening.
Her slippers were on the floor.
And the little brass bell was lying beneath her chair.
She'd been trying to reach her walking cane.
But it had fallen behind the dresser.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “your mother needed help getting out of bed Tuesday night.”
Luca frowned.
“Why didn't she call anyone?”
“She did.”
The room went silent.
“She rang the bell until her hand was too tired to keep ringing.”
Luca slowly turned toward his mother.
“Mom, is that true?”
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“I thought somebody would come.”
His expression changed.
“For how long did you wait?”
Teresa looked embarrassed.
“Until the sun came up.”
Nobody breathed.
Luca closed his eyes.
Then he gently took her hand.
“Mom, why didn't you call me?”
The old woman began crying.
“Because Vanessa said you were getting tired of my little emergencies.”
Vanessa immediately shook her head.
“Teresa, that's not what I meant.”
But the old woman continued.
“She said you worked too hard to spend every night worrying about me.”
Luca looked at his fiancée.
“Did you tell my mother not to call me?”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“I told her she needed to understand that you're a busy man.”
Luca's voice remained calm.
“I'm her son.”
“Of course you are.”
“Then why does she think she isn't allowed to call me?”
Vanessa didn't answer.
Teresa was crying harder now.
“I didn't want you to think I was becoming a burden.”
Luca knelt beside her chair.
“Mom, look at me.”
She did.
“When I was seven, I had pneumonia. Remember?”
Teresa nodded.
“You sat beside my bed for four nights.”
“You had such a terrible fever.”
“And every time I called for you, you came.”
Her face crumpled.
Luca kissed her hand.
“Why would I do any less for you?”
Teresa began sobbing.
And I had to look away.
Because all I could think about was my own mother.
Sitting alone in her little bedroom.
And how frightened she'd be if she called for help and nobody answered.
Luca stood.
“Patricia is coming back tonight.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Luca, that's completely unnecessary.”
He looked at her.
“My mother spent an entire night unable to get out of bed.”
“She wasn't injured.”
“That isn't the point.”
His voice was still quiet.
“She was frightened. And she was alone.”
Vanessa looked away.
Then Teresa caught my wrist.
“Hannah.”
I leaned closer.
Her fingers were cold.
“Tell him about the other night.”
My stomach dropped.
Because I'd promised her I wouldn't.
Not after Vanessa warned me that discussing Teresa's private affairs would cost me my job.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “your mother rang the bell last Thursday too.”
Luca turned.
“What happened Thursday?”
I looked at Teresa.
She was shaking.
“She wasn't ringing because she needed help getting out of bed.”
Vanessa suddenly went still.
Luca frowned.
“Then why?”
Teresa looked toward the dining room doors.
Then whispered:
“Because someone was outside my room.”
The room grew quiet.
Luca leaned closer.
“Who, Mom?”
The old woman shook her head.
“I couldn't see properly.”
Vanessa forced a laugh.
“Luca, this is exactly what I've been telling you. Your mother has been imagining people walking around upstairs.”
But Teresa wasn't looking at her.
She was looking at me.
“Hannah heard them.”
My heart started pounding.
Because I remembered that night.
I'd been carrying clean towels upstairs when I heard voices near Teresa's bedroom.
Vanessa's voice.
And another woman's.
Someone I didn't recognize.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said carefully, “Mrs. Bellini had a visitor upstairs Thursday evening.”
Luca turned toward Vanessa.
“What visitor?”
She hesitated.
“A friend.”
“Why was your friend outside Mom's bedroom?”
Vanessa looked around at the guests.
“Luca, must we do this now?”
He didn't move.
“Why?”
She swallowed.
“She was helping me make some arrangements.”
Teresa suddenly shook her head.
“No, Vanessa.”
The old woman's voice was trembling.
“But I heard what you told her.”
Vanessa went pale.
Luca turned.
“Mom, what did she say?”
Teresa looked frightened.
“She said Patricia wouldn't be coming back.”
Luca frowned.
“We know that, Mom.”
Teresa shook her head again.
“And she said Hannah would be leaving after the wedding.”
My breath caught.
Luca slowly looked toward his fiancée.
“Why would Hannah be leaving?”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“We'll need to reconsider the staffing once we're married.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“You've already made that decision?”
“It makes sense to start fresh.”
Teresa began crying.
“I didn't want Hannah to leave.”
Luca knelt beside her.
“She's not going anywhere, Mom.”
The old woman squeezed his hand.
But she wasn't relieved.
Instead, she looked terrified.
“Sweetheart, there's something else.”
Luca's voice softened.
“Tell me.”
Teresa swallowed.
“The woman asked Vanessa whether I'd be able to remember what happened.”
Nobody moved.
Luca frowned.
“Remember what?”
Teresa looked at me.
Then toward Vanessa.
“She said it wouldn't matter if everyone believed I was getting confused.”
Vanessa stepped backward.
Luca slowly stood.
“What wouldn't matter?”
No one answered.
Then Teresa whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“They weren't talking about my health, Luca.”
He looked at her.
“Then what were they talking about?”
The old woman's voice broke.
“They were talking about why your daughter stopped coming to my room.”
Luca froze.
His nine-year-old daughter, Sophie, had been spending most evenings with Vanessa lately.
She used to visit Teresa every night before bed.
Now she barely came downstairs.
Luca looked confused.
“What does Sophie have to do with this?”
Teresa began crying.
“She came to me last Thursday. She was frightened.”
Vanessa whispered, “Teresa, please.”
But the old woman continued.
“She told me something she thought you'd never forgive her for.”
Luca immediately knelt.
“What did she tell you, Mom?”
Teresa looked toward me.
“Hannah, tell him what you found Friday morning.”
My hands began trembling.
Because I'd found Sophie's favorite pink sweater folded beside Teresa's bed.
The little girl had left it there.
And tucked inside its sleeve was the small blue ribbon her late mother used to tie in her hair.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “Sophie asked your mother to keep something safe for her.”
Luca looked at me.
“Why?”
I swallowed.
“She was afraid Vanessa would throw it away.”
Vanessa snapped.
“That's ridiculous!”
But Teresa was shaking her head.
“No.”
She looked directly at Vanessa.
“You told Sophie she had to stop bringing her mother's things into this house.”
The dining room fell silent.
Luca slowly turned toward his fiancée.
“Did you tell my daughter that?”
Vanessa looked away.
“Luca, she's been clinging to the past. I'm trying to help her move forward.”
Teresa began sobbing.
“She loved those little ribbons.”
Luca's expression changed.
“Mom, why didn't Sophie come to me?”
The old woman stared at her hands.
“Because Vanessa said you were tired of hearing about Catherine.”
Luca stopped moving.
Catherine.
His first wife.
The mother of his daughter.
The woman he'd lost three years earlier.
He looked toward Vanessa.
“Did you tell Sophie that?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“I told her we were beginning a new chapter.”
Luca's voice became very quiet.
“My daughter doesn't have to forget her mother for me to marry you.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Teresa grabbed his sleeve.
“Luca, there's something worse.”
He looked back.
“What, Mom?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Sophie heard Vanessa telling that woman what they planned to do with Catherine's things after the wedding.”
Luca frowned.
“What things?”
Teresa shook her head.
“Everything.”
Vanessa stepped backward.
The old woman continued.
“She said your daughter wouldn't need any reminders of her old life.”
Luca looked at his fiancée.
“What exactly were you planning to remove?”
Vanessa didn't answer.
Then Teresa whispered something that made the entire table go silent.
“Sweetheart, I didn't ring that bell Thursday night because I was afraid for myself.”
Luca knelt closer.
“Then why?”
Teresa gripped his hand.
“Because Sophie was standing outside my door, crying, and begging me not to let them take something her mother had left her.”
Luca's face changed.
“What did they want to take?”
The old woman's lips trembled.
She looked directly at Vanessa.
“Ask her what she promised Sophie would be gone before you came home on Friday.”
Vanessa went completely pale.
Luca slowly stood.
“Vanessa?”
She couldn't answer.
Then Teresa tightened her grip on my wrist.
“Hannah, tell him who was with Vanessa when Sophie came to my room.”
I swallowed.
Because I remembered the visitor now.
Not her face.
Her voice.
The same woman I'd heard speaking to Vanessa beside the dining table earlier that evening.
I slowly looked toward the guests.
At the woman seated beside Vanessa's father.
And Luca followed my eyes.
“Who is she?”
Vanessa whispered, “Luca, please. Not here.”
But Teresa shook her head.
“Sweetheart, that woman didn't come to help plan your wedding.”
Luca turned toward his mother.
“Then why did she come?”
The old woman's voice broke.
“She came to ask Sophie which of her mother's belongings she wanted to keep before they cleared out her room.”
Luca went still.
“My daughter's room?”
Teresa shook her head.
“No, sweetheart.”
She looked toward Vanessa.
“Catherine's room. The one you've kept locked since she died.”
Nobody breathed.
Then Teresa whispered:
“And Sophie told me the woman already had a key.”
Luca slowly turned toward his fiancée.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Who gave her a key to my wife's room?”
Vanessa didn't answer.
May you like
And Teresa, still holding my hand, said the words that made the woman at the table stop smiling.
“Ask her why she knew exactly where Catherine kept the one thing she never wanted anyone else to find.”
