Chapter 4 - THE SON WHO CAME HOME
The black SUVs arrived through blinding snow.
By morning, the storm had buried the driveway and turned the estate into an island.
The staff lined up in the foyer.
Nora stood near the back, hiding her bruised wrist beneath her sleeve.
The front doors opened.
Lorenzo Moretti stepped inside wearing a dark overcoat, snow melting across his shoulders.
Four bodyguards followed him.
Mrs. Gable hurried forward.
“Welcome home, Mr. Moretti.
Everything is ready.”
Lorenzo handed his coat to the butler.
“My father?”
Nora’s head lifted.
Mrs. Gable smiled.
“The dear old man is doing wonderfully.
We treat him like an absolute king.”
Nora felt the words hit her harder than a shout.
Father.
The man facing the wall.
The cold oatmeal.
The dirty sleeves.
Lorenzo’s father.
“Good,” he said.
“I’ll see him after I finish in the study.”
He walked past them.
Nora opened her mouth.
Mrs. Gable turned her head just enough to catch her eye.
The warning was clear.
Nora said nothing.
Shame burned all the way up her throat.
An hour later, she carried fresh water toward the east wing.
Mrs. Gable blocked the corridor.
“Not today.”
“He needs—”
“He has everything he needs.”
The housekeeper took the pitcher from her.
Nora looked beyond her shoulder.
Through the half-open door, she saw fresh flowers, a silver tray, and a new quilt laid over Giovanni’s knees.
His old sweater had been replaced.
For three months, Nora had begged for clean clothes that fit him.
Apparently, finding them had taken less than an hour.
“You cleaned him up for his son,” Nora said.
Mrs. Gable’s expression went flat.
“Watch your tone.”
“Did you feed him?”
“I said go.”
Nora stepped back.
Inside the room, Giovanni watched from his chair.
Mrs. Gable shut the door between them.
Later, while Nora polished the study’s hallway table, Lorenzo emerged with his phone in his hand.
He stopped beside her.
“You.”
Nora’s fingers tightened around the cloth.
“Yes, sir?”
“How long have you worked here?”
“Three months.”
“And my father?”
She looked toward the east wing.
“What about him?”
“Does he seem comfortable?”
Mrs. Gable appeared at the far end of the hall.
Nora saw her.
So did Lorenzo.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Nora folded the cleaning cloth.
May you like
“No, sir,” she said.
“He doesn’t.”
