Chapter 2: The Woman in the Photograph
The next morning, Clara convinced herself she was not thinking about the Moretti family.
She failed.
She thought about Leo while making coffee.
She thought about Leo while riding the subway.
She thought about Leo when she counted the money in her wallet and wondered if losing her job would have been easier than pretending she wasn’t curious.
By seven that evening, she was back at Il Destino.
And Leo was waiting.
Not quietly.
Not patiently.
Waiting like a child who had decided something important.
The moment Clara entered the dining room, Leo slipped away from his nanny and ran toward her.
The entire staff stopped.
“Leo!””
The nanny looked terrified.
Clara caught him before he crashed into her knees.
“Hey, little guy.””
Leo hugged her waist.
Behind him, Rico stood near the private dining area.
Watching.
Clara straightened.
“Mr. Moretti.””
“Clara.””
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“You’re early.””
“I’m always early.””
“That’s unusual.””
She raised an eyebrow.
“For a waitress?””
“For someone who says she needs this job.””
The comment annoyed her.
“I do need this job.””
Rico looked at Leo holding onto her.
“No.””
Clara frowned.
“No?””
“You need the money.””
She didn’t answer.
Because he was right.
And she hated that he knew.
Rico walked closer.
“My accountant found something.””
“That sounds important.””
“It is.””
He looked toward Leo.
“Someone has been sending messages about my son.””
Clara’s expression changed.
“What kind of messages?””
Rico’s face became unreadable.
“Warnings.””
The restaurant suddenly felt colder.
“About Leo?””
“Yes.””
Clara looked down at the boy.
He was playing with the buttons on her uniform, unaware of the danger adults were discussing above him.
“Why are you telling me?””
“Because yesterday he trusted you.””
“That doesn’t make me special.””
Rico studied her.
“You don’t understand.””
“Then explain.””
Most people would have regretted speaking to Rico Moretti like that.
Clara realized it afterward.
But he didn’t get angry.
He looked almost surprised.
“Everyone around my son wants something.””
The words came slowly.
“Money. Influence. Protection. A connection to my family.””
“And you think I don’t?””
“I think you’re the first person in six months who looked at him and didn’t see my last name.””
Clara didn’t know what to say.
Before she could respond, Leo tugged her sleeve.
“Come.””
She smiled.
“Where?””
He pointed toward the drawing table in the corner.
Rico watched as his son pulled Clara away.
A few employees exchanged looks.
They had all noticed.
The impossible child had chosen someone.
Later that night, after closing, Clara found Rico alone near the bar.
The restaurant was empty.
No customers.
No noise.
Just expensive furniture and shadows.
“You’re still here,” she said.
“So are you.””
“I clean my section.””
“You always do everything you’re told?””
She looked at him.
“No.””
A faint smile almost appeared.
Almost.
Then Rico placed something on the counter.
A photograph.
Clara looked down.
It showed Elena Moretti.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Smiling beside Leo.
“She loved blue,” Rico said.
Clara looked up.
“What?””
“My son told you that.””
“Yes.””
“She wore blue dresses whenever she could.””
His voice became quieter.
“I used to complain. Said she owned too many.””
Clara looked at the picture.
“You miss her.””
Rico didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Then his phone rang.
The sound cut through the room.
He looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
Rico answered.
“Speak.””
A distorted voice came through.
Clara couldn’t hear everything.
Only Rico’s reaction.
His face changed.
The blood drained from it.
“What did you say?””
Silence.
Then:
“No.””
Another pause.
“That’s impossible.””
Clara watched him grip the phone harder.
The voice continued.
Rico slowly turned toward her.
Not because he wanted to.
Because whatever he had heard had connected her to something.
“Where did you get this number?””
The call ended.
Rico stared at the blank screen.
“What happened?”” Clara asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Mr. Moretti?””
Finally, he spoke.
And the words made her stomach drop.
“The person who called knew something only Elena knew.””
Clara went still.
“What?””
Rico looked at the photograph on the counter.
May you like
Then at Clara.
“They said my wife left a message for you.””
