Chapter 5 - The House That Remembered
1164 Words
The old Moretti estate appeared through the fog just before dawn.
Sofia stared through the windshield as the gates emerged from the darkness, their rusted iron bars twisted beneath years of neglect. Beyond them stood a house she hadn't seen since childhood.
She remembered it.
Not clearly.
But enough.
The white stone walls had once seemed enormous to her. She remembered running through the gardens barefoot, her mother's voice calling her back inside before dinner. She remembered the old fountain beneath the olive tree.
And she remembered a boy.
A quiet boy who rarely smiled.
Alessandro.
She turned toward him.
He was driving, one hand resting on the steering wheel, his attention fixed on the road ahead.
"Why didn't you ever come back here?" she asked.
"I wasn't allowed."
"By my father?"
"By mine."
She frowned.
"Why?"
"Because after that night, this place became dangerous."
Sofia looked back toward the house.
"That night."
"Yes."
"The night my father disappeared."
Alessandro nodded.
She swallowed.
"Tell me what happened."
"I've told you what I remember."
"No. You've told me what you want me to know."
His jaw tightened.
"You'll learn the rest."
"When?"
"When we know who is listening."
Sofia glanced toward the rear-view mirror.
There were two black vehicles behind them.
Their security team.
She had discovered that Alessandro apparently considered travelling with only one car an unacceptable risk.
"You really brought an entire army."
"Four men."
"That's an army to me."
"Then you haven't met enough armies."
She smiled despite herself.
Alessandro glanced at her.
For a moment, something warm passed between them.
Then the estate came fully into view.
The smile disappeared from Sofia's face.
The house looked exactly as she remembered.
And nothing like it.
The windows were dark.
The gardens had become wild.
The fountain was cracked.
But beneath the neglect, she could still see the place where she'd once been happy.
Her throat tightened.
Alessandro parked.
He switched off the engine.
Neither of them moved.
"You don't have to go inside," he said.
Sofia looked at him.
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
"Because I've spent eleven years being told this place was gone."
She opened the door.
"I want to know what else they lied about."
Alessandro followed.
The front door opened with a groan.
Cold air greeted them.
Sofia stepped inside.
Dust covered almost everything.
The grand staircase remained, although several wooden steps had deteriorated.
A chandelier hung crookedly from the ceiling.
She walked slowly into the entrance hall.
"I remember this."
Alessandro stood behind her.
"What?"
"The piano."
She pointed toward the far corner.
A covered piano sat beneath a sheet.
"When I was little, my mother used to play."
She approached it.
Her fingers brushed the dusty cover.
"She taught me."
Alessandro watched silently.
Sofia turned.
"You knew my mother."
"Yes."
"What was she like?"
His expression softened.
"Kind."
Sofia smiled faintly.
"She was."
Then something strange happened.
A memory surfaced.
A summer afternoon.
Her mother playing the piano.
Her father laughing.
And a teenage boy standing in the doorway.
Alessandro.
Sofia's breath caught.
She closed her eyes.
A voice whispered inside her memory.
"If you ever get scared, find him."
Her eyes opened.
"Alessandro."
He immediately came closer.
"What?"
"I remember something."
"What?"
"My mother said your name."
He went still.
"What did she say?"
Sofia pressed a hand against her temple.
"I don't know."
She looked toward the staircase.
"Something about being scared."
Alessandro's expression changed.
He looked toward the hallway.
"Stay here."
"Why?"
He walked toward the staircase.
"Because I need to check something."
Sofia followed.
"You're not leaving me alone."
He stopped.
She nearly walked into him.
They stood inches apart.
His gaze dropped to her lips for a moment.
Then returned to her eyes.
"You're becoming difficult."
"Maybe you're becoming predictable."
His eyebrow lifted.
"How?"
"Every time I tell you to leave me somewhere, you tell me to stay."
"Because you don't listen."
"And yet you keep asking."
A faint smile appeared.
"Fair point."
He turned toward the stairs.
Sofia followed.
They reached the second floor.
Her childhood bedroom was at the end of the hallway.
The door was closed.
Sofia reached for the handle.
Alessandro caught her wrist.
"Wait."
She looked at him.
"What?"
He studied the door.
"Someone's been here."
Her heart stopped.
"How do you know?"
"The dust."
He pointed.
There were footprints across the floor.
Fresh.
Sofia's pulse raced.
Alessandro stepped in front of her.
His hand moved beneath his jacket.
He opened the door.
Nothing.
The room was empty.
Sofia entered slowly.
The walls were pale pink.
Her old bookshelf stood against one wall.
A small wooden desk remained beneath the window.
She walked toward it.
"I remember this."
Alessandro stayed near the door.
"What?"
"I used to hide things here."
She opened a drawer.
Nothing.
Another.
Empty.
Then she noticed something beneath the desk.
A small wooden box.
She crouched.
Her fingers touched the lid.
A familiar symbol was carved into it.
The same symbol as the pendant.
Her heart began pounding.
"Alessandro."
He crossed the room.
He crouched beside her.
Their shoulders brushed.
Neither moved away.
"Where did you get this?"
"It was here."
He examined the symbol.
"Don't open it."
Sofia looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because your father knew this symbol."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen it before."
"Where?"
He looked at the box.
"On the night he disappeared."
Silence filled the room.
Sofia slowly lifted the lid.
Inside was a silver key.
And beneath it, a folded piece of paper.
She picked up the paper.
Her hands trembled as she unfolded it.
Only one sentence had been written.
If Alessandro brought you here, he has finally failed to keep you away.
Sofia looked at him.
He had gone completely still.
"What does that mean?"
He took the note from her.
His eyes scanned the words.
Then his face hardened.
"Someone knew I'd bring you here."
Sofia's stomach dropped.
"Who?"
He didn't answer.
A noise sounded downstairs.
A door closing.
Alessandro immediately stood.
"Stay here."
"No."
"Sofia."
She grabbed his hand.
The contact stopped him.
For a second, they simply stared at each other.
Her fingers were wrapped around his.
His thumb moved slowly over the back of her hand.
"Don't go."
It was the first time she had heard fear in his voice.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
His eyes softened.
"I'll come back."
She nodded.
He released her hand.
Then he disappeared through the doorway.
Sofia waited.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Nothing.
Then she heard a muffled voice downstairs.
A struggle.
A crash.
She should have stayed where she was.
Instead, she grabbed the silver key and ran.
She reached the staircase.
"Alessandro?"
No answer.
She descended slowly.
The entrance hall was empty.
Except for one thing.
A bloodied black glove lay on the floor.
Sofia's breath caught.
Then a voice whispered behind her.
"Looking for him?"
She turned.
A man stood in the doorway.
And he was smiling.
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