Chapter 10 - My Mother Came to My House Like She Was the Victim
A week later, despite the written notice from our attorneys, Viola came to our house anyway.
Not alone.
She brought flowers.
And tears.
That was her style when brute control failed.
She arrived just after noon and asked to speak privately. I refused and made her sit in the front parlor with Elena beside me and our attorney on speakerphone.
My mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and said, “I came because this family has lost its mind.”
I nearly laughed.
She called Carlo’s actions “an emotional overreaction.”
She called my response “disproportionate.”
She called Elena “highly suggestible.”
Then, with breathtaking audacity, she said, “You must think about Luca’s future. Hostility between branches only harms the child.”
There it was.
Back to the child.
Always back to the child.
As if she could still wrap her intentions in concern.
I asked her one question.
“Why were you trying to get Elena to sign guardianship papers?”
For the first time, she stumbled.
“Routine planning.”
“No. Try again.”
She straightened. “Matteo, families of our standing prepare for contingencies.”
“By holding my son over a fire pit?”
The room went dead quiet.
She looked at me with open contempt then.
The mask cracked.
“That was never supposed to happen that way.”
Elena inhaled sharply.
So did I.
Because that sentence was an admission.
Not complete.
Not legal.
But enough.
My mother realized it too late.
She rose to leave, but before she reached the door, my attorney’s voice came clearly through the speaker:
“Mrs. Moretti, I strongly recommend you stop speaking now.”
May you like
For once in her life, Viola listened.
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