Chapter 2 - The Secret Inside the Nurse’s Notebook
Adeline’s fingers tightened around the silver tray.
“My notebook?”
Alfonso nodded.
Bruno moved closer.
“What’s inside it?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” Adeline replied.
It was the first time anyone in the room had spoken sharply to Bruno Castellano.
His eyes hardened.
Enzo noticed.
Again, he watched hands rather than faces.
Bruno’s right hand had tightened.
Enzo stepped between him and Adeline.
“My grandfather asked the question.”
Bruno immediately relaxed.
“Of course.”
Alfonso told Adeline to retrieve the notebook.
She hesitated.
It contained private observations—not medical records, exactly, but thoughts she wrote after difficult shifts.
People she met.
Things she noticed.
Promises she made herself never to forget.
Finally, she opened it.
Alfonso asked her to turn to an entry from three nights earlier.
Adeline knew exactly which one.
She read silently.
Then looked up.
“I don’t understand.”
“Read it aloud.”
She swallowed.
That entry described an elderly patient who believed he was dying surrounded by people waiting for something from him.
Money.
Approval.
Inheritance.
Power.
But Adeline had written something else beneath it.
A dying man should still be allowed to be a man before he becomes somebody’s memory.
The room became quiet.
Alfonso looked at Enzo.
“She wrote that after sitting beside me for two hours.”
Victoria appeared confused.
“That’s why you chose her?”
“No.”
Alfonso smiled faintly.
“That’s why I started watching her.”
The real reason was Nell.
Marisol had discovered why Adeline worked so many extra shifts.
She had discovered the surgery.
The deadline.
The money.
And yet Adeline had never once asked the Marquettis for help.
She was standing inside a house containing more wealth than she could imagine, caring for a man whose family could pay Nell’s surgery without noticing the expense.
She had said nothing.
That mattered to Alfonso.
But Enzo was not convinced.
“You’re asking two strangers to marry.”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t know me.”
“Good.”
Adeline finally found her voice.
“Excuse me, but everybody seems to have forgotten that one of those strangers is standing right here.”
Alfonso looked amused.
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“I’m not marrying anyone.”
Sophia gave a short laugh.
Adeline turned toward her.
“I’m serious.”
That changed the atmosphere.
She was being offered entry into unimaginable wealth, yet her first reaction was refusal.
Alfonso looked almost pleased.
Enzo studied her.
“Why?”
Adeline stared at him.
“Because I don’t know you.”
A perfectly reasonable answer.
Yet almost nobody ever spoke to Enzo so plainly.
“And because,” she continued, “whatever this family is doing, I’m here to care for a patient. I’m not part of some arrangement.”
Bruno seized the opportunity.
“Then the matter is settled.”
“No,” Alfonso whispered.
Everyone turned.
The old man’s face had become pale.
The monitor began changing rhythm.
Adeline immediately moved.
Everything else disappeared.
Marriage.
Money.
Enzo.
Bruno.
She lowered Alfonso’s bed, checked his breathing and called for the emergency medication.
Enzo watched her transform.
Her hands were steady.
Her voice calm.
“Alfonso, look at me.”
He struggled for air.
“Stay with me.”
Minutes later, his condition stabilized.
Adeline remained beside him.
Enzo realized she was holding the old man’s hand.
Not because anyone was watching.
Because Alfonso was frightened.
When the crisis passed, Adeline told everyone to leave.
This time nobody questioned her.
In the hallway, Bruno approached Enzo.
“You cannot seriously consider this.”
“I haven't considered anything.”
“She’s nobody.”
Enzo stopped walking.
“Be careful.”
Bruno lowered his voice.
“I mean politically. She brings nothing.”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
Bruno stared at him.
Then smiled.
But Enzo saw something beneath it.
Fear.
Why would Bruno fear a nurse?
That evening, Adeline finished her shift.
Enzo found her downstairs putting on her coat.
“I’ll have someone drive you.”
“No, thank you.”
“It’s late.”
“I take the train every night.”
“You’re not at St. Bridget.”
She looked at him.
“That’s becoming increasingly obvious.”
Despite himself, Enzo smiled.
She noticed.
For one second, the frightening man everyone obeyed looked almost ordinary.
Then she left.
Enzo returned upstairs.
Alfonso was awake.
“You like her.”
“I barely know her.”
“I didn't say you loved her.”
Enzo sat beside him.
“Why her?”
Alfonso stared toward the paper crane beside his lamp.
“Because power shows you what people want.”
“And?”
“Kindness shows you what they are when they think nobody important is watching.”
Enzo considered this.
Then Alfonso whispered:
“And because Bruno is afraid of her.”
Enzo turned sharply.
“What?”
“I've watched him every time she enters the room.”
Alfonso’s eyes sharpened.
“He knows her.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Perhaps.”
Alfonso reached beneath his pillow.
He produced a folded piece of paper.
It was old.
Yellowed.
A photograph had been tucked inside.
Enzo opened it.
The picture showed his father years earlier outside a hospital.
Beside him stood another man.
Enzo did not recognize him.
But written on the back was a surname.
Whitaker.
Enzo stared.
“Who is this?”
Alfonso closed his eyes.
“Ask Bruno.”
Downstairs, meanwhile, Bruno stood alone in the dark study.
He took out his phone.
His voice was barely audible.
“The nurse has to leave.”
A pause.
“No. Don't hurt her.”
Another pause.
Bruno looked toward the ceiling, toward Alfonso’s bedroom.
“Just make certain she never comes back.”
May you like
Because Bruno knew exactly who Adeline Whitaker was.
And if Enzo discovered why her father’s name appeared in old Marquetti records, choosing a bride would become the least dangerous problem inside that house.
