"I don't know, child. But wherever she is, she loves you. That much was clear." Mrs. Russo's voice was gentle, motherly. "The way she spoke about you like you were her whole world."
Isabella clutched the paper to her chest, feeling it crinkle against her heart. Finally, a way to find her mother without walking into Vittorio's trap.
"Mrs. Russo, I need to go out today. But I can't use Rafa as a driver." She looked up, meeting the older woman's concerned gaze. "He'll report back to Matteo."
The older woman's eyes sharpened with understanding. "This is dangerous, isn't it?"
"Yes." Isabella's voice was barely a whisper. "But I have to do this."
Mrs. Russo studied her for a long moment, taking in the determination in her eyes, the set of her shoulders. Then she nodded and reached for her purse with decisive movements. "Take my car. It's parked in the staff lot behind the kitchen. A little blue Fiat no one will think to look for you there."
