Two Death Certificates
Chapter 04 - Two Death Certificates
Sheriff Diane Bell arrived twelve minutes later wearing a rain jacket over her uniform and the expression of a woman who had raised three sons, buried one husband, and stopped being impressed by rich men a long time ago.
She had kind gray eyes and a voice that could turn hard without getting loud.
When she saw Luca Moretti standing between the bread shelves and the front door, she looked him up and down once.
“You brought weather with you,” she said.
Luca said, “Not intentionally.”
“That’s what they all say.”
Miriam almost smiled.
Sarah did not.
The twins sat at the small table near the kitchen, each with a mug of warm milk Miriam had sweetened with honey. Lena watched Luca openly now, curious in the shameless way of small children. Ash kept his eyes down but listened to every word.
Sheriff Bell placed a blue binder on the counter.
“I don’t like what came across my desk this afternoon,” she said. “Emergency family petition filed in Kanawha County, forwarded from New York counsel. Claims the Ellis twins are being concealed from their legal father and at risk in their mother’s care.”
Sarah felt the floor go soft.
“At risk?”
Bell’s eyes flicked to her. “No one in this town believes that, Sarah. I’m telling you what paper says, not what truth says.”
Luca stepped forward. “I filed no petition.”
“Good,” Bell said. “Because whoever did used your name.”
She opened the binder and slid a copy across the counter.
There it was.
Luca Vincent Moretti, petitioner.
Sarah looked up. “Vincent?”
Luca’s mouth tightened. “My middle name. My uncle insisted. My father allowed it.”
“Convenient,” Bell said.
Luca’s eyes remained on the paper. “Too convenient.”
Sarah forced herself to read. The words blurred, then sharpened in cruel little pieces. Unstable living arrangement. Concealment of paternity. Possible influence from known associates. Immediate transfer of minors recommended.
Minors.
Not Lena and Ash.
Not two children who hated peas, loved moon-shaped pancakes, and believed every stray cat in Gray Hollow had a personal tragedy.
Minors.
Paper could make children sound so easy to move.
“Who signed it?” Miriam asked.
Sheriff Bell turned another page.
“Nora Vale.”
Luca cursed under his breath.
Sarah looked at him.
“My family attorney,” he said. “Former family attorney. Or she was supposed to be former.”
Bell’s brow lifted. “Supposed to be is doing a lot of work there.”
Luca pulled out his phone again, then stopped himself when everyone looked at him.
“My office can confirm—”
“No,” Sarah said.
He met her eyes.
“No calls to people you trust,” she said. “Because clearly you don’t know which ones you should.”
The words hit. She saw it.
But he nodded.
Sheriff Bell reached deeper into the binder. “There’s more. I requested anything attached to your names because I don’t enjoy strangers trying to steal children from above my favorite bakery.”
She placed two documents side by side.
Sarah’s breath caught.
Death certificates.
One had Luca’s name on it as the reporting next of kin.
Sarah Elizabeth Ellis. Deceased. Four years ago. Vehicle accident outside Newark.
The second had Rosa Moretti’s name.
Rosa Caruso Moretti. Deceased. Three years ago. Private burial. Signed by Vincent Moretti as family representative.
Luca stared at the paper until Sarah thought he might tear it in half.
“I stood at that grave,” he said.
Miriam whispered, “Lord help us.”
Sarah looked at Luca’s death certificate for her. The lie had a seal. A signature. A funeral home. A government stamp. All the respectable clothing wickedness wore when it wanted to pass through doors.
“You really thought I was dead,” she said.
Luca turned to her.
The room narrowed around them.
“I wore black for a year,” he said. “I went to the bakery you loved every Sunday until the owner asked me not to come back because I was scaring customers. I kept the apartment because your mug was still in the sink.”
Sarah’s anger did not vanish.
It shifted.
Pain with a new shape was still pain.
Lena slipped off her chair and walked to the counter. Before Sarah could stop her, she picked up the corner of the paper.
“Why is Mama on there?” she asked.
Sarah swept her up.
“It’s grown-up paperwork, baby.”
Lena looked at Luca. “Did you make Mama sad?”
No one moved.
Luca crouched slowly so he was lower than the child.
“Yes,” he said. “Even if I didn’t mean to.”
Sarah shut her eyes for a second.
That answer was worse than a denial.
Because it sounded like the man she had loved.
The bell over the front door jingled.
Everyone turned.
A woman in a black raincoat stood inside the bakery, though no one had heard the door unlock.
She lowered her hood.
Her hair was silver, her cheekbones severe, her eyes the same dark brown as Luca’s.
Luca rose like he had been pulled by a wire.
“Ma?”
May you like
Rosa Moretti looked at her son for the first time in three years and said, “I can explain the grave. But not before we move the children.”
Behind her, across the street, the black sedan’s headlights turned on.
