Chapter 6
The following morning, Alessio brought in a landscape conservator and a contractor who specialized in historic gardens.
No shovels.
No heavy machinery.
They examined the narrow strip without disturbing the plants.
The soil density was inconsistent.
Something had been dug there before.
Recently.
Samuel confirmed the irrigation line beneath that section had not required work.
The contractor used a thin inspection probe along the stone border.
Near the greenhouse wall, it struck metal.
Claudia, watching from the terrace under supervision, went white.
Alessio saw it.
The conservator carefully lifted one loose border stone.
Beneath it sat a small rusted gardening marker.
Nothing more.
The soil underneath had been disturbed.
Whatever had once been there was gone.
Claudia stared.
“That’s impossible.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Alessio slowly turned.
“What’s impossible?”
She recovered.
“I meant—”
“No.”
He walked toward her.
“You knew something should be there.”
“I guessed.”
“From what?”
No answer.
Marco looked equally confused.
That interested Alessio more.
If Claudia had removed the hidden object herself, Marco would not be surprised.
If Marco had removed it, Claudia would not be surprised.
Neither appeared to know where it was.
Someone else had gotten there first.
Alessio looked toward Evelyn.
She was standing beside Samuel near the greenhouse entrance.
The girl immediately looked away.
Claudia saw it too.
“Evelyn.”
The child froze.
Claudia took one step toward her.
“Come here.”
Evelyn did not move.
Alessio placed himself between them.
Claudia’s anger sharpened.
“You’re turning my daughter against me.”
“No.”
He looked toward Evelyn.
“I think you did that yourself.”
That afternoon, Evelyn asked to speak with Alessio alone.
He refused.
Not because he did not want to hear her.
Because she was twelve.
He asked a trusted female relative, Aunt Teresa, to sit with them.
Evelyn clutched a glass of lemonade she never drank.
“I know why Mom thought it was there.”
Alessio waited.
“She used to make me stand near the greenhouse while she looked.”
“How often?”
“A lot.”
“For what?”
“The box.”
Alessio’s expression changed.
“What box?”
“I never saw it.”
Evelyn’s voice trembled.
“But Mom kept saying Aunt Isabella had a little metal box.”
“How did she know?”
“Because Aunt Isabella told her.”
Alessio leaned forward.
“When?”
“The night they had the big fight.”
Evelyn had been younger.
She had been hiding beneath one of the planting tables playing with dolls.
Neither woman knew she was listening.
Isabella’s final words to Claudia had stayed in her memory.
Evelyn repeated them quietly.
“You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what I buried under the white flowers.”
Alessio looked toward the garden through the window.
May you like
For the first time, he understood why Claudia had been afraid to destroy that strip.
Isabella had wanted her to be.
