PART 17 — The Last Test

Dominic drove like a man outrunning God.

Sophie sat in the back seat of the armored SUV with Matteo against her chest, one hand supporting his head, the other pressed lightly to his tiny back. Lucia sat beside her, pale and silent, clutching Sophie’s sleeve.

Dr. Feld’s voice came through the speakerphone.

“Keep him upright. Watch his breathing. Sophie, talk to him. He responds to your voice.”

Sophie bent over Matteo.

“Stay with me, little warrior,” she whispered. “You hear me? You stay.”

Dominic’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror.

For the first time since she had known him, she saw pure terror there.

No mask.

No control.

Just a father watching the world reach for his son.

At St. Mary’s, doctors were waiting.

Matteo was taken from Sophie’s arms.

That was the worst part.

His tiny hand slipped from her finger, and suddenly she was standing in a hallway again, four years earlier, watching nurses rush Leo through swinging doors.

Her body remembered before her mind could stop it.

She stumbled.

Dominic caught her.

“I can’t do this again,” she whispered.

His voice was rough. “You are not alone this time.”

Hours passed.

Tests were run. Blood was drawn. Specialists arrived. Agent Morris placed guards outside every entrance to the pediatric wing.

Then Dr. Feld came out.

Sophie stood so quickly the chair slid backward.

“He’s stable,” Dr. Feld said.

Dominic closed his eyes.

Sophie nearly collapsed from relief.

“But there’s something you need to hear,” the doctor continued. “Matteo’s reaction appears to have been triggered by a compound introduced through his formula.”

Dominic’s face darkened. “The formula came sealed from the hospital.”

“Yes,” Dr. Feld said. “Which means either the supply chain was compromised…”

“Or someone inside the hospital did it,” Sophie finished.

Dr. Feld did not deny it.

Agent Morris entered with a tablet. “We found the access point.”

He showed them security footage from the hospital loading dock.

A woman in scrubs.

Face hidden by a mask.

Red nails.

Sophie’s stomach turned. “Carina?”

“No,” Dominic said quietly.

He leaned closer to the screen.

The woman turned slightly.

A scar ran along her wrist.

Dominic went still.

“That is not Carina.”

“Who is she?” Sophie asked.

Dominic’s voice dropped.

“Alessia’s mother.”

Sophie stared at him.

“I thought Alessia’s parents were dead.”

“So did I.”

Agent Morris swiped to the next image.

The woman removed her mask for half a second.

Older. Elegant. Cold. Her face carried traces of Alessia and Carina both.

Dominic whispered, “Vivienne Romano.”

Lucia, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, made a small broken sound.

Sophie turned. “Lucia?”

The little girl’s face had gone white.

“That’s the flower lady,” she whispered. “She came before the red lady.”

Dominic’s hands curled into fists.

The truth rearranged itself.

Carina had not been the beginning.

Victor had not been the architect.

Father Michael had not been working alone.

Alessia’s own mother was alive.

And she had been close enough to touch Matteo’s formula.

By evening, Vivienne Romano’s history surfaced.

Heiress. Philanthropist. Founder of three children’s medical charities. Declared dead in a private boating accident twelve years earlier.

No body recovered.

Sophie stared at the file.

“She faked her death.”

Agent Morris nodded. “And kept operating through trusts.”

Dominic looked at the photo of Vivienne.

“Alessia thought her family erased Carina.”

“They did,” Sophie said. “But maybe Alessia never knew who ordered it.”

A nurse knocked and stepped in.

“Mr. Moretti? There’s a woman downstairs asking for Sophie Lane.”

Dominic instantly stood. “Name?”

The nurse hesitated.

“She says her name is Margaret Vale. She says she was Leo’s night nurse.”

Sophie froze.

Leo’s night nurse had disappeared after the funeral.

Sophie had tried to find her once.

No address.

No phone.

Nothing.

Dominic looked at her. “You don’t have to see her.”

Sophie wiped her face.

“Yes,” she said. “I do.”

Margaret Vale was waiting in a private consultation room. She was in her sixties, small, gray-haired, with trembling hands and eyes swollen from crying.

The moment Sophie entered, Margaret stood.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Sophie stopped.

Margaret covered her mouth.

“I am so sorry.”

Sophie’s voice was barely audible. “For what?”

Margaret opened her purse and removed a small plastic vial.

“I switched Leo’s medication.”

Dominic moved so fast Agent Morris grabbed his arm.

Margaret sobbed.

“I didn’t know it would kill him. They told me it was the real treatment. They told me the other vial was poison. They told me I was saving him.”

Sophie stared at the vial.

“Who told you?”

Margaret looked toward the glass wall.

Then she whispered:

“His grandmother.”

Sophie’s heart stopped.

Margaret pointed to the file photo on the table.

“Vivienne Romano.”