The mysterious phone call in the sewing box proves that Sofia Moretti is still alive

The silver pen remained suspended less than an inch above Vincent Moretti’s signature line.

For three long seconds, nobody in the grand ballroom of the Moretti estate moved. Not Isabella Romano, the elegant woman in the ivory dress waiting to become Vincent’s wife. Not Dominic Moretti, Vincent’s younger cousin and most trusted business lieutenant. Not Charles Bellamy, the family attorney who had arranged the papers with the careful precision of a surgeon preparing an incision. And certainly not Grace Carter, the housekeeper standing near the service entrance with a tray trembling between her hands.

Everyone was looking at Grace’s eight-year-old daughter.

Emily Carter stood beneath a chandelier worth more than the small house her mother had grown up in, wearing a faded blue sweater with one repaired elbow and holding a cracked old phone in both hands.

Vincent slowly lowered the pen.

“What did you say?”

Grace went white. “Emily,” she whispered. “Come here.”

Before Emily could take a step, Charles Bellamy moved. His smile appeared too quickly, plastered across his face like a poorly fitted mask.

“Mr. Moretti, this is clearly a misunderstanding. The child found an old device in the staff quarters. There is absolutely no reason to interrupt—”

Emily didn't wait for him to finish. Her small thumb pressed the screen, and she pressed Play.

Static scraped through the ballroom sound system. Then came breathing. A woman’s breathing. Thin. Frightened. Alive.

Vincent’s face changed before the first full sentence reached him.

“Vince, if Bellamy is in the room, don’t say another word.”

The pen slipped from his fingers and struck the polished marble table with a sharp click. Isabella’s hand flew to the silver pendant resting against her throat. Dominic stopped breathing. Charles stared at the phone as if it were a venomous snake.

And Vincent Moretti, the man who had spent twenty years becoming the most feared name in the Hudson Valley, looked as though someone had just opened a grave beneath his feet.

Because he knew that voice.