Chapter 5 - Maria Returned Six Days Before the Funeral

Maria sat across from Roman.

Nobody interrupted.

“I came back because your father called me.”

Roman stared.

“He had my number?”

“For years.”

“Then why did you say you had no contact?”

“I said he never brought me home.”

“That was not the question.”

“No.”

She lowered her eyes.

“We spoke rarely.”

“How rarely?”

“Once or twice a year.”

Roman laughed quietly.

“Nineteen years of lies. Everyone had a private arrangement.”

Maria’s eyes filled.

“He wanted to confess.”

“I saw.”

“He asked me to come back first.”

“Why?”

“To forgive him.”

Roman looked at her.

“And did you?”

“No.”

She said it immediately.

“He had returned my letters.”

“He kept you from me.”

“Yes.”

“He also helped steal from charities.”

“Yes.”

“So no.”

“No.”

Roman nodded.

“What happened when you met?”

“We argued.”

“Where?”

“At this house.”

Roman frowned.

“My house?”

“The old Moretti residence.”

“That is now mine.”

“Yes.”

“You were inside my home six years ago.”

“Yes.”

He stared.

“Did you see me?”

“No.”

“Did you want to?”

“Yes.”

“But?”

“Your father begged me not to.”

Roman laughed again.

“Of course.”

Maria continued.

“He said he wanted to confess first.”

“What else?”

“He showed me the confession.”

“The same one Mila found?”

“Yes.”

“Then?”

“He drank wine.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed.

“You were there when he drank?”

“Yes.”

“And after?”

“He became sick.”

Silence.

David looked at Elena.

Roman asked:

“How fast?”

“Minutes.”

Arthur whispered:

“That sounds like poison.”

Maria nodded.

“I thought so.”

Roman’s voice turned cold.

“What did you do?”

“Called his doctor.”

“Which doctor?”

Maria looked at David.

David closed his eyes.

Roman noticed.

“Elena’s grandfather’s doctor.”

“Yes.”

Roman stared at him.

“Your father sent the doctor?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

Maria continued.

“The doctor arrived. He told me to leave.”

“And you left?”

“He said if I stayed, police would arrest me.”

“So you ran.”

“Yes.”

Roman stood.

“You ran while my father was dying.”

Maria started crying.

“I panicked.”

He walked away from the table.

Nobody followed.

After a moment he turned.

“Did he die that night?”

“No.”

Roman stopped.

“What?”

Maria wiped her face.

“He was alive when I left.”

David looked shocked.

“My father said he died before midnight.”

Maria shook her head.

“No.”

“He was talking.”

“What did he say?”

Maria closed her eyes.

“He said, ‘Don’t let Roman believe you did this.’”

Silence.

Roman’s face changed.

“So he knew I would be told.”

“Yes.”

Arthur looked at David.

“Who was in the house?”

Maria answered.

“Your grandfather.”

Elena froze.

“My grandfather was there?”

“Yes.”

“Before the doctor?”

“No.”

“He came after.”

David whispered:

“That means Dad lied to me.”

Roman looked at him.

“Again.”

David nodded.

Maria continued.

“Your father saw him enter.”

“What happened?”

“He became afraid.”

Roman’s jaw tightened.

“Of Voss.”

“Yes.”

“He said one thing before I left.”

“What?”

Maria looked at Elena.

Then at Roman.

“He said, ‘The poison was not meant for me.’”

Silence.

Elena frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Maria shook her head.

“I never knew.”

Roman looked at the memory card.

“Mila might.”

Arthur restarted the video.

There was more.

Mila appeared again.

“I found the doctor’s invoice.”

A scanned receipt filled the screen.

Emergency treatment.

One patient.

Name redacted.

Date:

The night Roman’s father died.

But the billing address was not Moretti.

It was Voss.

Elena stared.

“That was billed to my grandfather.”

Roman said nothing.

Mila continued.

“The medication listed is for organophosphate exposure.”

Arthur whispered:

“Pesticide.”

David went pale.

Roman looked at him.

“What?”

David whispered:

“My father owned vineyards.”

Elena stared.

“So did we.”

David nodded.

“Some pesticides were stored at the old estate.”

Roman’s eyes hardened.

The video continued.

“I think the poison came from Voss property.”

Then Mila looked directly into the camera.

“And I think Roman’s father was right.”

“The poison may not have been meant for him.”

Roman leaned closer.

Mila continued.

“The glass that night was originally poured for someone else.”

Silence.

Roman whispered:

“Who?”

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Mila answered:

“Maria.”