Page 99 of His Two Hidden Masks

“I can give you back what I didn’t mean to take from you,” Roberto said. “You should have known the truth about your family long ago.”

The Thief is here to show you that something has been stolen from you that is rightfully yours.

“How can I trust you?” I said, looking into his fiery green eyes.

“I don’t know, but I will ask you to try,” Roberto said. “I loved Sara. I loved you. I want to fix this and move on with my life. I’m sorry for everything.”

I touched the marble countertop, hoping the cold stone would ground me. I looked at the bar behind Roberto and glanced around the familiar dining room of Andiamo.

I grew up in this restaurant and in the hallways of this hotel. The tablecloths, candlesticks, dusty bottles of chianti in Andiamo were so familiar, but everything looked changed to me now. My sense of home was slipping away, but that didn’t mean I wanted my family to lose everything to James Street.

“How would it work?” I said, eyes focused on the grey and white lines of the Carrara marble countertop.

“We need to move fast. Tomorrow, before the ball, there is the group wedding on the steps of the Doge's Palace.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“It is the one time of year that you can get a license without waiting,” he said. “We go to the palace. We stand on the steps, say ‘I do,’ file the paperwork to block the acquisition, and it’s done.”

“It’s done,” I repeated.

“Yes,” he said. “We stop Street Entertainment, and you will end up with majority control. You can choose what you want to do next with the company. Nobody can stop Bella Baci or any other idea you have. It’s the way it should have always been.”

“I need some time to think.”

“I understand. I’ll leave you alone,” he said, setting something down on the bar in front of me. It was a key.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s the key to Sara’s room,” he said. “I’ve had it since I was eighteen years old. I should have given it to you a long time ago. It doesn’t belong to me. Let me know what you decide. And Bella, we don’t have much time.”

“I understand,” I said. “Thank you, Roberto.”

I didn’t know if I had the courage to marry the wrong man twice, but I knew I had the courage to open my sister’s door.

No more secrets, I thought as I walked from the Mia Sorella back home.

21

Istood in front of Sara’s bedroom door. Hearing Roberto’s theory about my sister’s death, my mother’s obsession with keeping the bedroom as a shrine made so much more sense to me. How does a person grieve when they are afraid to face what really happened in the past?

I turned the lock and opened the door.

My breath caught as I stepped inside. Time stood still behind that closed door. I was grown, the world around me had changed, but Sara’s bedroom looked the same. A bright yellow, floral wallpaper, hung on the walls, unfaded and bright. The shades were closed.

A tall dresser sat across from my sister’s queen-sized four poster bed. It still looked just like a princess room. There was no dust. I now understood that my mother kept it clean. I sat on Sara’s bed. The coverlet smelled fresh. The sheets looked washed.

A tall black jewelry box that I remembered opening as a child sat atop Sara’s dresser. I didn’t know what I was searching for, but I wanted to see if I could trigger a memory. I wanted to understand what happened to Sara all those years ago.

I opened the top drawer of the dresser and inhaled the scent of lavender. A fresh sprig sat on top of Sara’s folded pajamas. I teared up. “Oh, mama,” I whispered, holding the lavender in the air and inhaling its beautiful scent. I put it back and went through the other drawers, finding shirts, pants, shorts, and winter clothes.

The jewelry box had a key in its door. I opened it, revealing a row of hanging necklaces beside a stack of glittering rings. Some of the stones looked quite valuable. My parents’ grief was so deep, they couldn’t imagine anyone else ever wearing Sara’s things.

One necklace caught my eye. It was the clear blue Murano glass heart on a thick silver chain that my sister wore in her portrait. I lifted the necklace in the air and spun it in the light.

Blue ripples danced on the walls. If my sister’s soul was anywhere in this room, I guessed it was here. I slipped the necklace into my pocket

As I closed the drawer, the sound of footsteps approached from the hall. The bedroom door was closed, but no longer locked. I took a breath, and with my heart pounding, rolled underneath the bedskirt. It waved with motion just as my mother stepped inside.

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