Chapter 4 - EMMA’S TEDDY BEAR DISAPPEARED FROM SCHOOL
Mr. Teddy disappeared on a Wednesday.
Emma carried him to school because they were doing a project called “Something That Makes Me Feel Safe.”
The irony still makes me angry.
At 10:18, the school called.
“Elena?”
Her teacher, Lucia, sounded shaken.
“Emma is fine.”
Every parent learns to hate that opening.
“What happened?”
“She’s here.”
“What happened?”
“Her bear is missing.”
My body went cold.
“Missing how?”
“She put him in her cubby.”
“When?”
“Eight-thirty.”
“And?”
“We had art.”
“Recess.”
“When she came back, he was gone.”
I was already standing.
“Lock the school.”
Silence.
“That sounded dramatic.”
“Do it.”
I called Alessandro after.
He answered—
“Yes?”
“Teddy is gone.”
Silence.
Then—
“Emma?”
“Fine.”
“I’m coming.”
“No convoy.”
“Elena.”
“School full of children.”
A pause.
“Two cars.”
“One.”
“Two.”
I almost argued.
Then imagined someone inside the school who knew the bear mattered.
“Fine.”
When I arrived, Emma sat in the principal’s office.
Crying.
Not screaming.
Worse.
Silent tears.
Her hands were empty.
I knelt.
“Baby.”
“Someone took him.”
“I know.”
“He needs me.”
My throat closed.
“I know.”
“He doesn’t like strangers.”
A teddy bear.
Fabric.
Stuffing.
Not alive.
Tell that to a five-year-old whose dead father gave it to her.
I hugged Emma.
Lucia explained.
No sign of forced entry.
Parents came and went.
Maintenance.
Delivery.
One temporary substitute aide.
Security camera facing cubbies had been blocked for four minutes by a rolling art display.
Accident?
Maybe.
Except Alessandro arrived with Matteo and said—
“No.”
The art display wheels had been locked.
Someone deliberately moved it.
Police were called.
Not Moretti men.
Police.
That mattered.
Alessandro stood near the office wall.
Emma saw him.
“Mr. Alessandro.”
He crouched.
“Hi.”
“They stole Teddy.”
“I know.”
“Can you find him?”
Every adult in the room went still.
This was exactly the kind of question powerful men should not answer carelessly.
Alessandro looked at Emma.
“I will help look.”
Not—
I promise.
Not—
Yes.
Good.
Emma cried harder.
“I want him.”
Alessandro’s face tightened.
He did not touch her until she reached.
Then she did.
Small arms around his neck.
I watched him close his eyes.
My chest hurt.
Security footage from outside showed a delivery van parked behind the school for six minutes.
Fake company logo.
License plate cloned.
The driver wore a cap.
No face.
Then a package arrived at Villa Moretti that afternoon.
No return address.
Inside—
Mr. Teddy.
Emma was not allowed near it until police and bomb technicians cleared it.
Nothing explosive.
Nothing chemical.
The bear had been opened along the back seam.
Carefully.
The pink ribbon remained.
The black symbol under the ear remained.
But the stuffing had been searched.
Someone believed something else was hidden inside.
Matteo stared.
“They still think the ledger is there.”
“What ledger?”
I asked.
Alessandro looked at him.
Matteo realized.
Too late.
I folded my arms.
“Wonderful.”
“Elena.”
“What ledger?”
Alessandro exhaled.
“During the original Black Thread investigation, Bellini referenced a handwritten transaction book.”
I stared.
“You never told me.”
“We never found it.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“Yes.”
I blinked.
He had agreed quickly.
Progress.
“What was in it?”
“Names.”
“Payments.”
“Route buyers.”
“People in law enforcement.”
“Politics?”
“Possibly.”
“Moretti family?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Teddy.
“And Luca thinks Daniel had it.”
“Maybe.”
“Did he?”
“No evidence.”
“Then why tear apart a child’s bear?”
“Because people who are afraid of old evidence stop thinking rationally.”
I looked at Emma through the glass doors.
Rosa was sitting beside her.
My daughter watched every movement around Teddy.
“Can it be repaired?”
“Yes.”
Matteo said.
Emma heard through the door.
“No new Teddy.”
I walked inside.
“No one said new Teddy.”
She frowned.
“They cut him.”
“Yes.”
“Can Rosa sew?”
Rosa looked offended.
“I can sew anything.”
Emma nodded.
Solved.
Rosa repaired Teddy that evening.
The stitch across his back remained visible.
Emma touched it.
Then cried.
“Ugly.”
Rosa looked at me.
My heart broke.
I sat beside Emma.
“It’s a scar.”
“What’s scar?”
“A place where something got hurt and healed.”
She looked at my cheek.
Vivian’s slap had never scarred.
No visual mark.
Daniel’s absence had.
Different scars.
Emma traced Teddy’s stitching.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“How know?”
“He’s smiling.”
Teddy had one crooked stitched mouth.
Emma accepted that.
Then tied another pink ribbon around his neck.
“Now two.”
“Why?”
“One for ear.”
“One for scar.”
Alessandro stood in the doorway.
Watching.
Emma looked at him.
“Do you have scars?”
He went still.
“Yes.”
“Show.”
I almost choked.
Alessandro actually smiled.
“Some aren’t visible.”
Emma thought.
“Like Mommy?”
His eyes moved to me.
“Yes.”
“Like you too.”
My chest tightened.
Later, after Emma slept, Alessandro and I stood in the kitchen.
“What does Luca want?”
“The ledger.”
“You keep saying maybe.”
“Yes.”
“Assume.”
He looked at me.
“Dangerous habit.”
“Useful thought experiment.”
He considered.
“If Luca believes Daniel found Bellini’s ledger, he may think you know where it is.”
“I don’t.”
“I believe you.”
“But Luca doesn’t.”
“No.”
“Then where would Daniel hide something?”
The question hit differently.
Daniel.
Our apartment.
Electrical engineer.
Bad carpenter.
Terrible with keys.
Good father.
Not a spy.
I closed my eyes.
“Daniel didn’t hide important things well.”
“What does that mean?”
“He hid birthday presents in the laundry cabinet.”
“Emma’s first Christmas gift was under the bed.”
“He once hid my anniversary necklace inside the cereal cupboard and forgot.”
Alessandro almost smiled.
“So if Daniel found a ledger…”
“He might not hide it like a criminal.”
I looked at Teddy.
“He’d hide it somewhere ordinary.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Then I remembered something.
Daniel’s toolbox.
After he died, Sarti Infrastructure returned his personal equipment.
I donated most tools.
Kept the wooden measuring box his grandfather gave him.
It was in storage.
Not Villa Moretti.
A small rented unit I had kept because I could not bear to throw away the last pieces of our apartment.
My stomach tightened.
“I need to go somewhere.”
Alessandro straightened.
“Where?”
“Storage.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I am not entering alone.”
He stopped.
Good.
“Police first.”
I added.
Even better.
Alessandro nodded.
We went the next morning with two investigators.
My storage unit smelled like dust and cardboard.
Boxes.
Daniel’s winter coat.
Emma’s baby chair.
Ground life.
Before Villa Moretti.
I found the measuring box under a stack of kitchenware.
Wood.
Brass clasp.
Daniel’s initials.
DAB.
My hands shook.
I opened it.
Rulers.
Electrical pencil.
Old voltage tester.
Nothing.
Then Alessandro noticed the base.
“Double thickness.”
I stared.
Daniel had repaired it once.
I remembered.
The bottom cracked.
He added another panel.
We removed four tiny screws.
Inside—
not a ledger.
A key.
Small.
Old.
And a folded note.
My handwriting recognition came instantly.
Daniel.
ELENA—
IF YOU FIND THIS, TAKE EMMA AND CALL INSPECTOR MARCO DE LUCA. DO NOT CALL SARTI. DO NOT TRUST ANYONE WHO ASKS ABOUT BLACK THREAD.
My body stopped.
Below—
I THINK THIS KEY OPENS SOMETHING BELLINI LEFT. I DON’T KNOW WHAT. I’M GOING TO ASK QUESTIONS TOMORROW.
Tomorrow.
Daniel died that night.
I started crying.
Alessandro looked away.
Giving privacy.
Then one investigator asked—
“What does the key open?”
I looked at the tiny stamped number.
Same number family as the tag once hidden in Mr. Teddy.
Not the old railway locker.
Another reference.
Alessandro’s face changed.
“I know that prefix.”
“What?”
“Bank storage.”
“Where?”
He looked at me.
“Lake Como.”
The place Daniel bought Teddy.
May you like
The place Black Thread had brushed against our life without either of us understanding.
And somewhere near that lake, Daniel had left one final door unopened.
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