Dominic stared at the information on the screen.
“He knew someone might look.”
Matteo stood at the end of the table.
“Or someone warned him.”
The implication shifted the entire investigation.
Until then, they had been looking at one doctor and one unidentified nurse.
Now the hospital itself became suspect.
Matteo called the chief administrator directly.
The conversation lasted less than two minutes.
When he hung up, his face was expressionless.
Dominic asked, “What did he say?”
“He offered condolences.”
“That’s it?”
“He also said Bell never worked on Elena’s case.”
Dominic looked at the access records.
“He did.”
Matteo nodded.
“And Bell appears in three signed consultation notes.”
Liana felt a chill.
“They’re already lying.”
Matteo looked at her.
“Yes.”
By late afternoon, the estate had transformed into a private investigation center.
Printers ran continuously. Screens displayed timelines. Names were written across a glass wall in black marker. Staff schedules, badge logs, medical entries, and old photographs formed an expanding web.
Nico remained with Liana almost the entire time.
Every attempt to move him to a nurse caused immediate distress.
Eventually Matteo stopped trying.
He watched Liana pace the study with his son against her shoulder and experienced an emotion he did not know how to name.
Relief, because Nico was finally calm.
Pain, because another person could give his child something he apparently could not.
And fear, because Nico’s attachment to Liana seemed connected to whatever had happened in that hospital.
At sunset, Liana noticed Matteo standing in the doorway.
“You can take him.”
Matteo shook his head.
“He’s sleeping.”
“You’re his father.”
“I know.”
The answer was sharper than he intended.
Liana studied him.
Then she understood.
“You think he doesn’t want you.”
Matteo looked away.
She crossed the room slowly.
“He was reaching for me because something reminded him of me. That doesn’t mean he was rejecting you.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t know that.”
“No. But I know what fear looks like in a baby.”
His gaze returned to her.
Liana lowered her voice.
“He doesn’t cry when he sees you. He cries when he feels something he can’t understand.”
Matteo looked at Nico.
His son’s hand rested loosely against Liana’s shoulder.
Matteo reached out.
Nico’s fingers curled around his father’s index finger.
The small gesture nearly broke him.
Matteo sat down beside them.
