And whatever happens, do not let them convince you that you imagined what you saw.
Camilla read the letter twice.
Then she opened the photograph.
It showed her father standing beside two men in front of the house.
One man was young, perhaps in his early thirties.
The other was older and wore a dark suit.
Someone had drawn a thick black line across the older man’s face.
On the back, her father had written a date from twenty years earlier.
Beneath it were four words.
He never really left.
Camilla looked up at Edoardo.
“Who are these men?”
He studied the photograph.
“I don’t know.”
But his expression suggested that he recognized something about it.
“Edoardo?”
He folded his arms.
“Your father once asked me whether I knew a man called Vittorio Moretti.”
Camilla’s mouth went dry.
“Who was he?”
“A property developer. He had a reputation for buying old buildings, renovating them, and selling them for enormous profits. Your father refused to sell this house to him.”
