The girls ran.
Elena remained alone in the room.
She looked down at the open compartment.
Her hand shook as she took out her telephone.
She dialed a number she had not called in almost three years.
When the person answered, she whispered only five words.
"They found Lucia's compartment."
The reply was immediate.
"Then you know what to do."
Elena closed her eyes.
"I can't."
"You should have thought about that before taking the money."
The call ended.
Elena stood motionless.
For three years, she had lived with the knowledge that the woman who had trusted her most had died because of a decision she had made.
She had convinced herself that the truth would never emerge.
Now two little girls had found the one thing Lucia had hidden before her death.
And the people responsible were coming back.
At eleven thirty, Alessandro received another call.
This time, it was from the head of household security.
"Sir, we have a situation."
"What kind?"
"The girls have entered the west wing."
Alessandro stood immediately.
"Are they hurt?"
"No, sir."
"Where are they?"
"With Margaret."
"Then why are you calling?"
A pause.
"Because Elena is missing."
Alessandro looked toward Marco.
"Stay here."
He left the study.
He crossed the main corridor and reached the west wing in less than a minute.
Margaret was waiting outside the sitting room.
Her expression was frightened.
"Mr. Moretti."
"Where are my daughters?"
"In the kitchen. I found them crying."
"Why?"
Margaret swallowed.
"They said they found something that belonged to Mrs. Moretti."
Alessandro looked at the open door.
"What?"
"A book, I think."
He entered.
The room was exactly as Lucia had left it.
Except for the compartment.
The floor panel was open.
The metal lock had been disturbed.
Alessandro crouched and examined it.
He recognized the mechanism.
He had installed it himself.
Inside was a small empty space.
The journal was gone.
So was the note.
He stood.
"Where is Elena?"
"We don't know."
Alessandro looked toward the corridor.
"Find her."
Two guards immediately moved.
He returned to the main house.
The girls were sitting at the kitchen island with Margaret. Isabella's cheeks were wet, and Sofia was holding Mr. Buttons so tightly that its ears were folded.
Alessandro approached them.
"Come here."
Both girls climbed down.
He knelt.
"Tell me what happened."
Isabella hesitated.
"Elena said we couldn't tell you."
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"She said you would be angry."
He took her hands.
"Look at me, sweetheart."
She did.
"You can tell me anything. Even if you break something. Even if you make a mistake. I will never be angry because you tell me the truth."
Sofia looked up.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Isabella took a breath.
"We found Mommy's book."
Alessandro nodded.
"Where?"
"In her room."
"What else?"
"A secret door."
"A door?"
"Not a real door. A box under the floor."
Alessandro glanced toward Margaret.
"Did you see it?"
"No, sir."
He looked back at the girls.
"What did Elena do?"
"She wanted Mommy's paper."
"Did she take it?"
Isabella nodded.
"She said not to tell you."
Alessandro remained silent.
Then Sofia spoke.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Is Mommy in trouble?"
The question struck him harder than any bullet could have.
He pulled both girls into his arms.
"No, sweetheart."
"Then why did Elena take her book?"
Alessandro looked toward the windows.
Outside, the river moved beneath a pale November sky.
"I don't know yet."
He kissed their foreheads.
"But I'm going to find out."
At that moment, Marco entered the kitchen.
He carried a tablet.
"Alessandro."
Something in his voice made Alessandro turn.
"What?"
"We found Elena's car."
"Where?"
"At the east gate."
"Is she inside?"
"No."
Marco showed him the security footage.
At 10:47, Elena had walked through the service entrance carrying a small black handbag.
She had not returned.
Alessandro watched the footage twice.
Then he noticed something.
A second figure had been standing outside the gate.
A man in a gray coat.
The camera had captured only half his face.
Alessandro recognized him.
His name was Victor Salerno.
And Victor Salerno had been dead for three years.
Or so Alessandro had been told.
The same night Lucia died, Victor had disappeared from the organization. He had been a trusted financial adviser, responsible for maintaining several of the Moretti family's private accounts.
He had also been Lucia's cousin.
Alessandro turned off the tablet.
"Get the car."
Marco nodded.
"Where are we going?"
"Find Elena first."
"And Victor?"
Alessandro looked toward his daughters.
"Nobody touches him until I know why he is here."
Marco understood.
The investigation had just become a war.
But Alessandro had one rule.
His children were never part of it.
He called Margaret.