Chapter 6 - What Happened to Sofia Moretti
Sofia Moretti had not died by accident.
At least, not in the ordinary sense of the word.
The laptop contained emails between Vincent, a Meridian quality director, and an account linked to Bellini.
Two years earlier, a questionable batch of Vasotril-X had been flagged internally.
The company shipped it anyway.
Saint Catherine’s received six units.
One went to Sofia.
Faith sat beside Francesco in Agent Park’s office while the messages were read aloud.
Francesco did not move.
Not when they mentioned the lot number.
Not when they discussed suppressing the complaint.
Not even when one email referred to Sofia as “an acceptable casualty if Moretti doesn’t connect the dots.”
Faith reached for his hand.
Then stopped herself.
He noticed.
He turned his palm upward.
She placed her hand in his.
No performance.
No words.
Just contact.
After the meeting, Francesco stood alone in the courthouse hallway.
Faith joined him.
“You knew Bellini hated you,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t know about Sofia.”
“No.”
“What are you going to do?”
His eyes were frighteningly calm.
“Nothing tonight.”
Faith believed that answer cost him something.
“Tomorrow?”
“I will give Agent Park everything I have on Bellini.”
She stared at him.
“Everything?”
“Everything relevant.”
“That sounds carefully worded.”
“It is.”
Faith crossed her arms.
“Francesco.”
He looked at her.
“If you want a future with me in it, I cannot be asked to lie for you.”
The sentence came out before she had decided to say future.
They both heard it.
Neither commented.
Francesco nodded.
“You will never be asked.”
Faith wanted to believe him.
But belief was no longer something she gave away for free.
At Mount Sinai, the counterfeit investigation expanded.
Seven patients had received compromised product.
Five survived.
Two had died months earlier.
Their families were contacted.
Faith attended one meeting with Leon Briggs’s daughter because Leon asked her to.
“I want her to know you’re the reason I’m still annoying her,” he said.
Faith smiled.
“You’re doing excellent work on that.”
Rebecca entered witness protection arrangements with federal investigators—not disappearing, but relocating temporarily while the case developed.
Before she left, she met Faith in a diner near the hospital.
“I want to give you something.”
Rebecca slid an envelope across the table.
Inside was a cashier’s check.
Thirty-four thousand dollars.
Faith stared.
“What is this?”
“Money Vincent moved through an account he put in my name.”
“Why are you giving it to me?”
“Because some of it came from the fake company in your name.”
Faith pushed it back.
“I can’t take this.”
“You can give it to the government, the victims, burn it, whatever. I just don’t want it.”
Faith studied her.
“You really didn’t know?”
Rebecca looked away.
“I knew enough to leave sooner.”
That was the most honest thing she had ever said.
Faith accepted the envelope and turned it over to Agent Park that afternoon.
Three days later, Vincent was released pending charges.
Faith found out because he appeared in the hospital parking garage.
He stepped from behind a concrete pillar.
She stopped.
Every instinct told her to run.
Instead, she backed toward the security call station.
“Stay away from me.”
Vincent raised both hands.
“I just want to talk.”
“No.”
“You owe me that.”
“No.”
His face tightened.
“Faith, I can fix this.”
“You forged my identity.”
“Bellini forced me.”
“You cheated on me.”
“That had nothing to do with this.”
“It had everything to do with who you are.”
He stepped closer.
Faith pressed the emergency button.
Vincent grabbed her wrist.
“Stop making me the villain.”
The words were almost laughable.
Then another voice came from the shadows.
“Take your hand off her.”
Francesco.
Vincent turned.
“You follow her now?”
Francesco ignored him.
He looked at Faith.
“Do you want me to intervene?”
The question mattered more than Vincent understood.
Faith said, “Yes.”
Francesco moved.
Vincent swung first.
Francesco blocked the punch and drove him backward with one hard strike to the jaw.
Vincent hit the concrete wall and slid down, stunned.
Security arrived seconds later.
Faith looked at Francesco.
“You asked.”
“You answered.”
Then she looked down at Vincent.
For the first time, she did not see a man who had ruined her life.
She saw a man whose power had depended entirely on her believing she had none.
That illusion was gone.
The folder on Sofia contained more than medication records.
There were photographs of the Moretti townhouse, maps of Francesco’s usual routes, notes about restaurants he frequented, and a copy of Sofia’s surgery schedule.
Francesco read the inventory in silence.
Faith sat beside him in Agent Park’s office.
“Did Bellini order this?” she asked.
Park said, “We don’t know yet.”
Francesco did not look up. “He did.”
“That may be true,” Park replied, “but I need evidence, not reputation.”
Francesco’s jaw tightened.
Faith almost expected him to react badly.
Instead, he said, “What do you need?”
Park slid a legal request across the table.
“Records from three Moretti-controlled logistics firms.”
He read it.
“These include information unrelated to Bellini.”
“Yes.”
“Information that could expose my family.”
“Yes.”
Faith watched him.
Park did too.
Francesco folded the paper once.
“I’ll have counsel review it.”
Park nodded. “That’s what I expected.”
Outside, Faith said, “You almost said no.”
“I almost said several things.”
“Which one won?”
“The one that buys me time to choose correctly.”
Faith smiled faintly.
“That sounds like hesitation.”
“I’m evolving.”
She stopped walking.
“Francesco, if the truth about Sofia also exposes crimes your family committed, what happens?”
He looked through the courthouse windows toward the city.
“Then I decide whether loving my sister means protecting her memory or protecting the empire that failed her.”
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Faith knew then that the investigation was no longer only testing Vincent.
It was testing Francesco too.
