Chương 2
A confused one.
People glanced at each other because some of them knew the story of the crash. Most knew the sanitized version carried in the newspapers: Moretti daughter rescued after vehicle enters river, driver killed, investigation ongoing.
Luca knew the version that had kept him awake for nine months.
The SUV had broken through a guardrail during freezing rain.
His driver, Anthony Russo, had died at the scene.
Sophia had been trapped in the rear cabin.
An unknown civilian had entered the river before emergency crews arrived.
By the time firefighters got Sophia onto the bank, the rescuer was gone.
Luca had spent weeks looking.
He had paid investigators.
He had asked the city.
He had asked the county.
He had asked hospital administrators whether anyone had come in that night with hypothermia, cuts, bruising, anything consistent with entering the river.
Nothing.
Why would a woman who had saved his child be carrying champagne in one of his foundation’s hotel ballrooms?
His jaw tightened.
“Why didn’t you find me?”
Hannah’s eyes flicked toward the head table.
Not at him.
Past him.
Then back.
“I did.”
Sophia shifted against her.
Hannah lowered her voice.
“Your foundation told me to stay away.”
Luca did not move.
It was the smallest reaction in the room.
A change around the eyes.
A slight flattening of his mouth.
Clare noticed.
Hannah noticed.
Three men standing behind the donor tables noticed and immediately stopped looking relaxed.
Luca rose.
His gaze traveled toward his staff.
The Moretti Children’s Recovery Foundation occupied two tables near the stage. Executive director Martin Voss sat at the first one with his wife. Communications director Elaine Mercer sat beside a pediatric orthopedic surgeon. Two development officers were farther down.
Martin’s face had changed.
Only for a second.
But Luca saw it.
He had built a life on seeing the second before a man understood he had made a mistake.
Martin looked down at his napkin.
Luca turned back to Hannah.
“We’re going somewhere private.”
She stiffened.
Sophia clung harder.
Luca corrected himself.
“All of us.”
Clare rose.
“She doesn’t walk another step tonight.”
Sophia groaned.
Clare pointed at her.
“That wasn’t a negotiation.”
“I walked.”
“You did.”
“By myself.”
“For considerably longer than I would have authorized.”
Sophia frowned.
“I didn’t ask.”
Clare looked at Luca.
For reasons Luca could not have explained, he almost laughed.
Nothing about the moment was funny.
Maybe that was why.
He bent and lifted Sophia carefully.
She resisted for half a second, then put one arm around his neck while keeping the other hand hooked stubbornly through Hannah’s fingers.
Luca noticed that.
So did Hannah.
The ballroom remained silent.
Luca looked over his shoulder.
“Please continue dinner.”
Nobody did.
He added, “The orchestra too.”
The violinist blinked.
Then the quartet began again.
Not the song they had been playing.
Something quieter.
Luca carried Sophia toward the service corridor while Hannah walked beside them and Clare followed. Behind them, hotel employees swept crystal into silver dustpans. Martin Voss stayed seated at the foundation table, one hand flat on his thigh, his wife whispering something he did not answer.
Luca’s security chief, Vincent Marzano, appeared near the corridor entrance.
Luca said, “Martin doesn’t leave.”
Vincent’s eyebrows moved a fraction.
“Understood.”
“No scene.”
“Understood.”
“And get Elaine.”
Hannah heard that.
Her fingers tightened around Sophia’s.
The private bridal suite on the second floor had been turned into a donor hospitality room for the gala. Clare cleared a sofa, checked Sophia’s ankle, checked her pulse, made her flex both feet, then gave everyone a look suggesting wealth did not outrank medical judgment.
“She strained it. Maybe mildly. We ice it, elevate it, and she is done standing tonight.”
“I’m fine,” Sophia said.
“You’re seven.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not fine.”
“It means your medical opinions have limited market value.”
Sophia looked at Hannah.
“She’s always like this.”
Hannah made a tiny sound that might have been a laugh.
It was the first moment she appeared younger than thirty.
Luca stood near the mantel.
He had removed his tuxedo jacket and placed it over a chair. His white shirt cuff was stained with wine from the broken glass.
He did not notice until Hannah noticed.
“You’re bleeding.”
He looked down.
A shallow cut crossed the heel of his palm.
“Glass.”
Clare glanced over.
“Bathroom. Wash it.”
“I’m fine.”
Sophia pointed at him.
“Your medical opinion has limited market value.”
Clare covered her mouth.
Hannah looked down.
Luca stared at his daughter.
Then he went to wash his hand.
When he returned, Hannah was sitting on the carpet beside the sofa because Sophia would not let go of her.
The sight stopped him at the doorway.
Sophia did not touch unfamiliar people.
She had stopped trusting nurses after the third surgery.
She tolerated physical therapists because Clare had spent months earning the privilege.
She allowed Luca near her during pain because he was her father, and even then sometimes told him to go away.
Yet her small hand rested inside Hannah’s as if it belonged there.
Luca sat across from them.
“Tell me what happened.”
Hannah glanced toward Sophia.
“Which part?”
“The bridge.”
Sophia’s eyes moved between them.
Hannah hesitated.
Luca recognized the hesitation.
Not deceit.
Protection.
He said, “She’s heard the reports.”
“That doesn’t mean she needs mine.”
“I want hers,” Sophia said.
Clare sat on the edge of an armchair.
“Sophia, it could be upsetting.”
“I was there.”
No one had an answer for that.
Hannah rubbed her thumb once across Sophia’s knuckles.
“The car was already in the water when I stopped.”
“Why were you there?” Luca asked.
“I was driving home.”
“From where?”
“My sister’s place in Evanston.”
“Ashwood isn’t the direct route.”
“No.”
“Why that road?”
Hannah’s expression changed.
Annoyance.
“Because traffic was backed up on the expressway, and my phone sent me around it.”
Luca stopped.
May you like
Clare glanced at him.
Hannah said, “Do you want the story, or do you want to investigate why I was driving?”
