Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN THEY BURIED
Vivia stared at the photograph until the room seemed to tilt.
Her mother was standing in sunlight.
Not in a hospital.
Not trapped in a wreck.
Not dead.
Alive.
One year after the funeral.
Nico grabbed the edge of the table.
“No.”
Rafe looked just as stunned.
“I watched her stop breathing.”
Nico turned on him.
“You said she was alive.”
“She was.”
“You just said you watched her stop breathing.”
“I did.”
Vivia’s voice came out thin.
“What happened?”
Rafe stared at the photograph.
“The ambulance arrived.”
“Mom was still alive?”
“Barely.”
“They got her out.”
Rafe struggled to continue.
“She lost consciousness before they reached the hospital.”
“You went with her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“The police held me.”
Nico looked at him.
“For what?”
“Questions.”
“About?”
“Why I was there.”
Rafe shook his head.
“By the time they let me go, Vincent had already called.”
“He told me Elena died during surgery.”
Nico’s mouth opened.
No words came.
Rafe continued.
“I never saw her body.”
Neither had Nico.
Neither had Vivia.
Vincent had insisted the injuries were too severe.
The casket had been closed.
Marcella had stood beside Vincent through the entire wake.
Vivia remembered Marcella putting a hand on her shoulder.
You should remember your mother as she was.
Vivia suddenly felt nauseated.
“The funeral.”
Nico understood immediately.
“Closed casket.”
Alessia whispered.
“Did anyone identify the body?”
Nico shook his head.
“Dad handled everything.”
Rafe looked sick.
“So did Carlo.”
Vivia sat down.
There was no chair, so she lowered herself onto the floor.
Nico crouched beside her.
She stared at him.
“If Mom survived…”
“I know.”
“She was alive.”
“I know.”
“She was alive while we were grieving her.”
Nico’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“Why didn’t she come back?”
He had no answer.
Vivia looked at the photograph again.
Elena did not look happy.
She looked terrified.
Michael stood beside her with one hand near her shoulder but not touching.
Behind them was a building.
A blue sign appeared partially visible.
Alessia took the photograph.
“I know that logo.”
“Where?”
“My father has a clinic that uses the same medical network.”
Rafe leaned closer.
The sign displayed a white lighthouse inside a blue circle.
“Northshore Recovery.”
Alessia nodded.
“They run private rehabilitation facilities.”
Nico stood.
“Find the location.”
She searched offline records from a cached business directory.
Three facilities existed twelve years earlier.
Massachusetts.
Maine.
Rhode Island.
The photograph showed a shoreline behind the building.
Vivia stared at it.
“Maine.”
“How do you know?”
“Mom hated Maine.”
Nico frowned.
“That is your evidence?”
“She once told me it was the perfect place to disappear because half the coast looks empty even when it isn’t.”
Rafe looked at her.
“When?”
“The summer before she died.”
Nobody spoke.
Vivia remembered the conversation now.
She had been fifteen.
They were watching a travel documentary.
Elena had laughed when the narrator described a remote Maine island.
If I ever run away, don’t look somewhere warm.
Vivia had assumed it was a joke.
Now she was no longer sure.
Nico took the photograph.
“Michael accessed this box tonight.”
Rafe nodded.
“That means he knew we had the key.”
“Or knew Marcella lost it.”
Alessia looked at Nico.
“Someone is watching her.”
Rafe shook his head.
“Someone is watching all of us.”
Nico called the Bellandi security command center.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
He called the estate.
A junior guard finally picked up.
“Nico.”
“What happened?”
“Sir, the main surveillance system rebooted.”
“Why?”
“We’re trying to determine—”
“Where is Marcella?”
“We don’t know.”
“Carlo?”
“No visual.”
“Daniel Mercer?”
“No visual.”
Nico closed his eyes.
“Lock the corporate offices.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Remove Daniel’s credentials.”
“Immediately.”
“Then send a team to his house.”
Rafe cut in.
“No.”
Nico glared at him.
“Why?”
“If Michael is alive, nobody does anything predictable.”
Nico almost shouted.
“My mother might be alive.”
“And whoever hid that fact managed to hide it for twelve years.”
Rafe stepped closer.
“Think.”
Nico hated him for being right.
Vivia stood.
“What if Mom didn’t come back because she couldn’t?”
Rafe looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe someone kept her there.”
Alessia searched Northshore Recovery.
“Private neurological rehabilitation.”
She read from the old cached page.
“Traumatic brain injury.”
“Memory disorders.”
“Long-term assisted care.”
Vivia went pale.
“What if she woke up and didn’t remember us?”
Nico sat down.
That possibility was somehow worse.
Then Alessia found another document in the USB copy.
It was buried inside the INSURANCE folder.
Patient transfer authorization.
The patient name had been redacted.
The date was four days after Elena’s crash.
Transfer from St. Matthew’s Medical Center, Connecticut.
Transfer to Northshore Recovery Center, Maine.
Authorizing family representative:
VINCENT BELLANDI.
Vivia made a sound that was almost a sob.
Nico stared at the signature.
This one did not look forged.
Rafe whispered.
“He sent her away.”
Nico’s eyes hardened.
“He buried an empty coffin.”
Alessia kept reading.
“Diagnosis: severe traumatic brain injury, retrograde amnesia, impaired verbal processing.”
Vivia pressed both hands against her mouth.
Nico’s voice was barely audible.
“She didn’t know who she was.”
The next page listed financial responsibility.
The account used to pay for treatment belonged to a shell company.
MERIDIAN CARE LLC.
Payment authorization:
MARCELLA BELLANDI.
Vivia stared at Marcella’s signature.
“She knew.”
Nico’s expression became frighteningly calm.
“She paid to keep Mom there.”
Rafe looked at the photograph.
“But the picture was taken a year later.”
“That means she recovered enough to stand.”
“And enough to meet Michael.”
Nico called the old Northshore number.
Disconnected.
Alessia searched property records.
The Maine facility had closed seven years ago after a private acquisition.
“Who bought it?”
Alessia looked at the screen.
“Meridian Care.”
Nobody was surprised anymore.
“Current owner?”
“Company dissolved.”
“Property?”
“Sold.”
“To whom?”
Alessia stared.
“Daniel Mercer.”
Nico closed his eyes.
Of course.
The CFO.
The man who had just driven Marcella and Carlo away.
Vivia moved closer.
“Address.”
Alessia gave it.
Rafe shook his head.
“Four hours.”
Nico was already moving.
“We fly.”
“There’s no airport close enough for the family jet to matter.”
“Then helicopter.”
Rafe caught his arm.
“Nico.”
“What?”
“If they know we found Box 317, they may already be moving whatever is there.”
“Then we get there first.”
As they left the vault, Alessia’s laptop chimed.
Everyone stopped.
It was disconnected from Wi-Fi.
The sound came again.
Not the laptop.
Vivia’s phone.
She looked at the screen.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
One new text message.
She opened it.
There was no greeting.
No explanation.
Only a photograph.
It had been taken minutes earlier.
Marcella stood inside a dark room.
Carlo stood behind her.
Between them sat an elderly woman in a wheelchair.
Her hair was gray.
Her face was thinner.
A scar ran along her left temple.
Vivia’s phone slipped from her fingers.
Nico picked it up.
He stared at the woman.
Even after twelve years, he knew her.
Their mother was alive.
A second message appeared.
BRING THE USB COPY.
COME WITHOUT POLICE.
May you like
OR THIS TIME ELENA BELLANDI REALLY DOES DIE.
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