Chapter 10: The Reckoning
Mrs.
Gable was brought back to the estate on a Tuesday morning.
She did not come willingly.
She came because the alternative, Lorenzo's attorney had explained over the phone, was that the conversation would happen somewhere considerably less comfortable than the estate's formal sitting room.
She arrived in the same car she had left in, wearing the same composed expression she had worn for eleven years.
She sat across from Lorenzo, his attorney — a woman named Grace Chen who had the quiet manner of someone who had never once needed to raise her voice — and, to Mrs.
Gable's visible surprise, a representative from the county sheriff's office.
"This is unnecessary," Mrs.
Gable said immediately.
"Whatever accusations have been made—"
"We're not here for accusations," Grace said.
She opened a folder.
"We're here because we have a laboratory analysis of a dietary supplement administered to Giovanni Moretti over a period of no less than twenty-four months.
The analysis confirms the presence of a sedative compound not listed in any prescription or care plan." She set the report on the table and turned it to face Mrs.
Gable.
"We also have a personal record maintained by Mr.
Moretti himself, documenting your conduct, your financial irregularities, and your communications with a property attorney named Reeves regarding a planned incapacity filing."
Mrs.
Gable looked at the laboratory report.
Then at the notebook, which Grace set beside it.
"That is not admissible," Mrs.
Gable said.
"He is not competent to—"
"His physician has revised that assessment," Grace said.
"In writing, as of yesterday." She set a third document on the table.
"Dr.
Anselm's updated evaluation concludes that Mr.
Moretti has been deliberately and artificially suppressed in his functioning for an extended period, and that his current cognitive capacity, with the sedative compound removed from his system, is substantially higher than any prior assessment indicated." She paused.
"He is, in the physician's professional opinion, entirely capable of maintaining a personal record."
The color had left Mrs.
Gable's face.
"I want a lawyer," she said.
"You're welcome to call one," Grace said.
"The sheriff's representative is here to ensure that process is handled correctly." She closed the folder.
"I want to be clear about what you're facing.
Administering an undisclosed compound to a vulnerable adult is a criminal matter.
The financial irregularities in the care budget represent a separate civil matter.
And the communications with Reeves regarding the incapacity filing — which we have obtained through his office, as he has chosen to cooperate fully — represent a third matter entirely."
Mrs.
Gable turned to Lorenzo.
Her composure had cracked completely now.
Beneath it was something Nora, watching from the doorway where Lorenzo had asked her to stand, had not expected to see.
Not remorse.
Calculation.
Still calculating, even now.
"Mr.
Moretti," Mrs.
Gable said.
"I served this family for eleven years.
Whatever mistakes were made, I kept this estate running.
I kept your father safe—"
"You kept him sedated," Lorenzo said.
It was the first thing he had said since she arrived.
"There is a difference."
"I want to make a deal," Mrs.
Gable said.
"I have information.
About Reeves, about the filing, about other matters connected to this estate that you may not be aware of—"
"Grace," Lorenzo said.
"We're not in a position to offer arrangements," Grace said to Mrs.
Gable.
"That conversation, if it happens, will be with the relevant authorities.
Not with us." She nodded to the sheriff's representative.
Mrs.
Gable stood.
Her chair scraped back.
She looked at Lorenzo one last time — and then her eyes moved to Nora in the doorway.
Something crossed her face.
Not guilt.
Something uglier and smaller.
"You," she said.
"You think you've won something.
A pregnant maid playing at being family." Her voice was low and vicious.
"You have no idea what this world is.
You don't belong here."
Nora looked at her steadily.
"I know exactly what this world is," she said.
"I've been scrubbing its floors for three months."
Mrs.
Gable had no answer for that.
The sheriff's representative stepped forward.
She left the room between two people who were not impressed by her composure, her eleven years, or anything else she had to offer.
At the door, she stopped once more.
"You'll regret trusting her," she said to Lorenzo.
"People like her always want something."
"People like her," Lorenzo said quietly, "fed my father when no one else would.
That's enough for me."
The door closed.
The room was very still.
Grace gathered her documents.
"Reeves has already provided a full account in exchange for reduced exposure.
The incapacity filing has been formally withdrawn.
The financial records will go to the appropriate authorities by end of week." She looked at Lorenzo.
"Your father's legal standing is fully intact."
Lorenzo nodded.
He looked at Nora.
She was still standing in the doorway.
Her hand was pressed against her side — the baby, moving again, as though it too had been holding its breath.
"It's done," he said.
"Is it?" she asked.
May you like
"The hard part," he said.
"Yes."
