Chapter 8 - The Mother in the PhotographWe found her in a private care facility outside Boston.
She had been in hiding for fifteen years.
She looked older.
Frailer.
But her eyes were unmistakable.
I walked into her room.
She stared at me.
“Lorenzo.”
I couldn't speak.
She smiled.
“You look like your father.”
I laughed through tears.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“From Victor?”
“From everyone.”
She told me everything.
My father had discovered The Circle.
My mother had infiltrated it.
Victor had betrayed them.
When she tried to expose him, she was attacked.
Daniel saved her.
Vivien's mother helped hide her.
Vivien herself had spent years gathering evidence.
Every lie had been part of one enormous attempt to survive.
I looked at Vivien.
“You could have told me.”
“I wanted to.”
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because if I told you, you'd come after them.”
I smiled sadly.
“You were right.”
My mother reached for my hand.
“I am sorry.”
I squeezed it.
“I spent years hating a dead woman.”
She smiled.
“Then stop.”
For the first time in years, I felt like a son.
Not a boss.
Not an heir.
Just a son.
Then Emma entered the room.
She ran toward my mother.
“Grandma!”
My mother looked confused.
I smiled.
“It's a long story.”
Emma held up her rabbit.
“Do you like him?”
My mother laughed.
“I do.”
Emma smiled.
“Good.”
May you like
She climbed onto the bed.
And somehow, in that room, the family we had lost began becoming a family again.
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