Chapter 48: Isabella

The house was perfect.

Mediterranean style, with white stucco walls and terracotta tiles, nestled in the hills overlooking Malibu. Private beach access, six bedrooms, infinity pool that seemed to blend into the Pacific horizon.

Most importantly, it was thousands of miles away from here and every ghost that haunted us there.

"The master suite has ocean views," the realtor had gushed during our video tour. "And there's a separate wing for children, with its play area."

Alessandro had nodded approvingly, but I could see the distance in his eyes.

He was still thinking about her and still wondering where she'd gone.

But that would change once we were settled in New York. Once there were no more familiar places to trigger memories of his precious nanny.

"We'll take it," I'd said before he could voice any doubts.

The wire transfer went through yesterday. By the end of the week, we'll be homeowners in paradise.

And I'd finally have Alessandro all to myself.

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I was in Aria's room now, caref