Chapter 7 - His Mother’s Answer
Lorenzo’s mother asked for her tablet.
Her left hand shook as she tapped the screen.
The speech therapist had installed a simple communication program after the stroke. She hated using it when she could force the words out herself.
Tonight, she used it.
Elena helped position the stand, then stepped away.
The electronic voice said:
I told her no.
Lorenzo pulled a chair close.
“No to the wedding?”
His mother nodded.
Her finger moved again.
She asked me to sign papers.
“What papers?”
A pause.
Bank.
Rocco leaned forward.
“Do you remember when?”
His mother’s mouth tightened with frustration.
She tapped the calendar icon.
Then a date from eleven weeks earlier.
Elena looked up sharply.
“That was the morning she told me not to interrupt.”
Lorenzo remembered the day.
He had been in New York, handling a dispute he had described to Vivien as business.
She had called that evening to say his mother was improving.
“She squeezed my hand,” Vivien had told him.
Now his mother typed another sentence.
She held my wrist.
The room became very quiet.
Lorenzo bent his head.
“Did she hurt you?”
His mother reached out and touched his face.
It was an answer and something worse than an answer.
Nora asked permission to look through the documents stored in the bedroom desk.
They found the folder behind a stack of medical invoices.
A proposed transfer of voting rights tied to several legitimate waterfront properties.
His mother had inherited those shares from Lorenzo’s father.
Her signature line was blank.
A sticky note on the front read:
Before wedding. V says essential.
Rocco checked the household calendar.
Vivien’s cousin Adrian had visited that same morning.
Lorenzo looked at the blank signature.
For months, he had believed Vivien wanted a wedding, a name, a place beside him.
She had wanted access.
His mother tapped the tablet again.
Elena stopped her.
Lorenzo turned.
Elena stood with her arms folded tightly.
“I told Vivien your mother was too tired. I took the folder away.”
“That’s when it started?”
Elena nodded.
“Mostly.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the papers?”
“She said they came from you.”
Lorenzo stared at his own reflection in the dark window.
His name had become a weapon other people could pick up.
Behind him, the tablet spoke again.
She said after the wedding I would leave.
He turned slowly.
May you like
His mother’s eyes filled.
Where was she sending me?
