THE PHOTOGRAPH

Camila arrived in Palermo with more questions than answers.

She hadn't told her father about the trip. She simply left a message saying she needed a few days away and switched off her phone before he could call back.

She knew he would not be happy.

But for once, she wasn't interested in making him happy.

The taxi stopped outside a small hotel not far from the city centre. Camila paid the driver, collected her bag and walked inside.

After checking in, she sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the message Isabel had sent her.

There was an address beneath it.

She picked up her phone and called the number.

It rang twice.

"Hello?"

"Isabel? It's Camila."

The woman was quiet for a moment.

"You came."

"Yes. I need to know where I can find you."

"I'll send you the address. Come alone."

Camila frowned.

"Why does everyone keep telling me to come alone?"

"Because some people would rather you never heard what I have to say."

Before Camila could ask anything else, Isabel ended the call.

A few seconds later, a message arrived with the address.

Camila saved it and placed her phone on the bed.

She had travelled all this way. She wasn't going to turn back now.

Luciano was having breakfast when Matteo walked into the dining room.

"She's gone."

Luciano looked up.

"Who?"

"Camila. She left Madrid."

"Where did she go?"

"Palermo."

Luciano placed his cup down.

"How do you know?"

"Her father called one of his men this morning. Apparently, she didn't tell him where she was going."

Luciano stood.

"Does Esteban know she's there?"

"He knows she's missing, but he doesn't know the address."

Luciano picked up his phone.

"Find out where she's staying."

Matteo watched him.

"Are you going after her?"

"Someone has been sending her messages about her mother. I'm not leaving her to deal with this alone."

"Or perhaps she doesn't want your help."

Luciano gave him a cold look.

"Then she'll tell me herself."

He walked out of the room.

Matteo sighed and picked up the abandoned cup.

This marriage was already becoming more complicated than either family had expected.

Camila arrived at the address shortly after midday.

It was an old building on a quiet street. The paint on the entrance door was peeling, and several flower pots stood beside the steps.

She checked the number again.

This was the place.

Before she could knock, the door opened.

A woman stood in front of her.

She was in her late fifties, with dark hair showing a little grey around the temples. Her eyes moved over Camila's face, and for a moment she looked as though she had seen a ghost.

"Camila."

"Isabel?"

The woman nodded.

Then she stepped aside.

"Come in."

The apartment was modest but comfortable. There were family photographs on the walls and a small table near the window.

Camila noticed one photograph immediately.

It was her mother.

Younger than she remembered, smiling beside Isabel.

"That's my mother," she said.

Isabel followed her gaze.

"Yes. We took that picture many years ago."

Camila turned towards her.

"How did you know her?"

Isabel hesitated.

"Valeria was my sister."

Camila stared at her.

For a few seconds, she couldn't find the words.

"My mother's sister?"

"Yes."

"Why have I never heard of you?"

Isabel looked down.

"Because your father made sure you didn't."

Camila felt something tighten in her chest.

"Why?"

"That's what you came here to find out."

Isabel placed two cups of coffee on the table.

Camila hadn't touched hers.

"Tell me about my mother," she said.

Isabel sat opposite her.

"Valeria was a kind woman, but she wasn't weak. She had a mind of her own, and she didn't like being told how to live."

Camila smiled faintly.

"That sounds like her."

"She loved you very much."

Camila's expression softened.

"Did she talk about me?"

"All the time."

Isabel looked towards the photograph.

"She used to say that you were the only good thing that came out of a difficult time in her life."

Camila lowered her eyes.

"Why did she leave?"

Isabel took a slow breath.

"Your mother became involved with people she shouldn't have trusted. One of those people was Luciano's father."

Camila looked up.

"She knew his father?"

"Very well."

"Was she involved with him?"

Isabel didn't answer immediately.

"I won't pretend I know everything that happened between them. But they shared a secret, and it changed both families."

"What secret?"

"Your mother never told me the whole story. She only said that the Russo family had made a promise to her."

Camila remembered the old document.

"What kind of promise?"

"Something connected to the agreement."

"Everyone keeps talking about this agreement. What is it?"

Isabel stood and walked towards a cabinet.

She opened a small drawer and removed an old photograph.

When she returned, she placed it in front of Camila.

It showed three people standing outside a large house.

Her mother.

A man Camila recognised from the photograph Luciano had shown her.

And a third person.

"Who is that?" Camila asked.

Isabel's expression changed.

"Alessandro Russo."

Luciano's uncle.

Camila looked closer.

"Why were they together?"

"Because Alessandro knew about the agreement before anyone else."

Camila looked at her.

"Was he responsible for what happened to my mother?"

"I don't know."

"You're telling me you don't know?"

"I'm telling you that I was never given the chance to find out."

Isabel picked up the photograph and turned it over.

There was a handwritten sentence on the back.

If anything happens to me, protect the girl.

Camila read it twice.

Her throat felt dry.

"She wrote this?"

Isabel nodded.

"Shortly before she disappeared."

Luciano arrived at the hotel later that afternoon.

Camila was returning from the reception when she saw him standing near the entrance.

She stopped.

"Are you following me now?"

He looked at her.

"Good afternoon to you too."

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Why?"

"Because you disappeared without telling anyone where you were going."

"I'm not a child, Luciano."

"I never said you were."

"Then stop behaving like I'm someone you need to supervise."

He studied her face.

"Have you met Isabel?"

Camila's expression changed.

"How do you know about her?"

"Your father mentioned her name once. Matteo found the address."

She stared at him.

"You have people following me?"

"I have people looking into a situation that could affect both our families."

"Well, I found her. And I don't need you interfering."

Luciano stepped aside as another guest walked past.

"Then tell me what she said."

Camila hesitated.

"Why are you so interested in my mother?"

His expression became difficult to read.

"Because my father knew her."

"That's not enough."

"It's what I can tell you for now."

Camila shook her head.

"You sound exactly like my father."

She walked past him towards the stairs.

Luciano watched her go.

He had expected her to be difficult.

He hadn't expected her to remind him so much of someone he barely remembered.

Later that evening, Luciano met Matteo in the hotel lounge.

"Alessandro has been asking about Camila," Matteo said.

Luciano looked at him.

"What did he say?"

"He wanted to know whether she had travelled to Palermo."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Nothing."

Luciano leaned back.

"Keep it that way."

Matteo opened his phone and showed him a photograph.

It was an old picture of Valeria standing outside a building.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was sent to me anonymously."

Luciano studied it.

There was a date written on the back, but what caught his attention was the building behind her.

He recognised it.

It belonged to his father.

"Where was this taken?"

"At the old Russo residence."

Luciano looked at the photograph again.

His father had always insisted that Valeria was only a family acquaintance.

But acquaintances didn't usually appear in private family photographs.

And they certainly didn't leave behind messages asking someone to protect their daughter.

Camila returned to her hotel room and placed Isabel's photograph on the bedside table.

She had learned more in one afternoon than she had in twenty-six years.

Yet she still felt as though something was missing.

Her phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

You shouldn't have gone to Isabel.

Camila frowned.

Who is this?

A reply arrived.

Ask her what happened the night your mother disappeared.

Camila immediately called Isabel.

There was no answer.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

Then her phone rang.

It was Luciano.

She answered reluctantly.

"What?"

"Camila, listen carefully."

"What happened?"

"Matteo found something."

"What?"

Luciano was silent for a moment.

Then he said, "Your mother didn't simply disappear."

Camila sat down.

"What do you mean?"

"Someone arranged for her to leave."

"Who?"

"We're still trying to find out."

Camila looked at the photograph on her bedside table.

"Luciano, I think there's something Isabel hasn't told me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because someone just warned me not to trust her."

Before Luciano could respond, another message appeared on her phone.

This one contained a photograph.

It showed Isabel standing outside a building with a man whose face had been partly hidden.

Beneath it were five words.

Your aunt knows where she is.

Camila stopped breathing for a moment.

She looked at the message, then at the photograph.

Her mother might not be dead.