The Wooden Keepsake Box

Brielle answered what seemed like 50th email of the day and it was only 10:20 on a Monday morning. She heard the vibration of her phone to her right as the screen lit up with an out of state number. This is the 3rd time this number called her in the last week. They’ve never left a message and she never answered when they called. She doesn't know anyone from out of state so why would she answer. Truthfully, it was probably just another bill collector. Getting back to her email she heard her phone ding alerted her that they left a voicemail this time. Curiosity got the better of her and she grabbed her phone to listen to it. She played the message and heard a deep male voice say "Hi this message is for Brielle Stevens, formerly known as Nicolette Morelli. My name is Ray Jacoby, Esq from Jacoby, Meyer, and Rosenberg Law Firm in New York City. Please return my call at your earliest convenience. I am calling regarding the last will and testament of your grandfather, Nino Morelli. You can reach me at this number directly. Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon". All at once the color drained from her face and her heart hammered inside her chest making Brielle look pale under the UV lights in her office.

This must be a mistake. Brielle thought to herself. Yes, my name is Brielle Stevens but who the hell is Nicolette Morelli or even Nino Morelli. The lawyer must have tracked down the wrong Brielle Stevens, right? It had to be a mistake on their end. There is no other possible explanation. Brielle tried hard to convince herself that was the truth, but she could not shake the uneasiness she felt. Her stomach dropped and it was suddenly hard to swallow. All she could think of was calling her mom as the names Nicolette and Nino Morelli repeated continuously on a loop in her head.

Brielle’s mom answered on the third ring. “Hey sweetheart. Is everything okay?” Jackie asked “You never call me while you are at work!” Taking a pause, Brielle attempted to swallow before she responded “Uh yeah mom everything is fine. I just got a weird voicemail today that kind of rattled me. Mom, have you ever heard the names Nicolette or Nino Morelli?” Brielle could hear what sounded like her mom had dropped the phone. “Mom, are you there? Are you okay? Did you drop the phone?” she asked feeling alarmed. Faintly Brielle could hear her mom saying a prayer in Italian, but her mom didn’t speak Italian. Or did she? Brielle thought. What is going on? “Brielle listen to me very carefully. You need to leave work right now. Make up some excuse about being sick” her mom Jackie instructed with fear in her voice. “But mom what is going on? Who is Nino Morelli and what does it have to do with me?” Brielle questioned her mom. “Sweetheart there is no time to explain. If they have your phone number chances are, they know where you work too. You need to leave right this instance. Go to the women’s locker room at the Christian Street YMCA. In the third row, locker 329 enter the combination 48-27-6. Inside that locker you will find everything you need. Go now! Dispose of your cell phone when as soon as possible. Sweetheart, I love you and I really did what I thought was best for you. Always remember that please” responded Jackie and with those words she disconnected their call. What the hell? Brielle thought. She quickly redialed her mom’s number and received the error message "We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service". Brielle closed her eyes shaking her head hoping she was dreaming, and she would soon wake up.

As she opened her eyes, Brielle was disappointed to see she was still sitting in her office and this was real life. A quick glance at the clock on her laptop showed it was 10:32 AM. In 12 minutes, her life had completely imploded. She had so many questions and seems no closer to any answers. The one person that can provide any information has disconnected her phone. Up until this point, Brielle had always trusted her mom and she recalls the genuine fear she could hear in her mom’s voice on the phone, so she begins packing up her belongings. With her bag slung over her shoulder, Brielle walks down to her supervisor’s office and knocks on the door that is slightly ajar. “Come in” her supervisor Ben calls from his oversized mahogany desk which Brielle always thought implied he was trying to overcompensate for something. Feigning her best sick face, she cleared her throat then spoke “I need to go home. I am not feeling well, and it came on so suddenly I would hate for anyone else to catch whatever it is”. Leaning back in his chair trying to put more distance between them, Ben replied “Yes absolutely you may go home. Get some rest and feel better”. Brielle turned on her heel and quickly headed for the exit. As she left the office building, she tossed her cell phone in the trash can and glanced back to look at the place she dedicated herself to for the last 6 years for what may be the last time ever.

Brielle must have gone into autopilot mode as she barely registered the drive to the Christian Street YMCA. She kept turning over all the details in her head from this morning trying to figure out if this was all some big elaborate prank her mom concocted for posting that video to Tik Tok of her dancing. “You have arrived at your destination” sounded from her GPS and brought Brielle back to reality. She looked out of the window of her SUV and saw a dilapidated brick building with overgrown shrubbery surrounding it and flickering sign with the entire bottom right corner missing that read “YMCA”. Brielle found a parking spot and headed for the main entrance with her palms sweating she took shallow, fast breaths. She walked in the double doors and sighed with relief when she noticed there isn’t anyone at the front desk that may ask her questions she wouldn’t know how to answer. Having no idea where she is going, she headed to the right in hopes it was the correct direction of the women’s locker room. At this point, her heart was beating so loudly Brielle was convinced someone would hear the thumping in her chest if they stood close enough to her. Not far ahead, she saw the dark blue stenciled lettering painted on the wall that read “Locker Rooms”. The air felt stuffy and heavy when she stepped into the locker room. She counts the rows as she passed. One, Two, Three. This is the row she thought to herself.

After a few seconds that felt like minutes, Brielle located locker 329 in the middle of the aisle second from the bottom. Squatting down she took a few deep breaths before she entered the combination into the lock. Brielle turned the dial to the right three times stopping at 48, then turned the dial to the left one full turn past 48 stopping at 27, and finally turned the dial to the right stopping at 6. With a quick yank, the lock easily opened and Brielle noticed she had been holding her breath the entire time. She gasped air into to her deprived lungs while she thought Holy shit it opened. This is real. This is real. She removed the lock and pulled up on the latch of the locker the door opened with a creak. Stale air billowed out like the locker had not been opened in decades. Peering inside, Brielle noted there was only one item in the locker. She pulled out a large wooden keepsake box that looked like it was at least 30 years old. So this box holds the answers to all my questions she thought. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood up and she felt like someone was watching her. She tucked the box under her arm and headed to her SUV as fast as she can without running. Brielle stomped on her accelerator heading in no specific direction just away from there and away from whoever’s presence she felt. She cringed and tried to shake off the feeling as shivers tingled down her spine at the thought of someone watching her.

After driving for 30 minutes, Brielle pulled into the parking lot of a shopping mall with the intent of getting lost in the sea of cars in case anyone did follow her. She knew she needed to get her bearings and come up with a plan, but first she wanted to see what was in the box. With thoughts running wild through her mind, she closed her eyes and slowly lifted the lid of the keepsake box. Not knowing if something would jump out at her she felt it was safer to have her eyes closed. After a few quiet moments of nothing happening she pried her right eye open to take a quick peek. After spotting nothing nefarious she opened both eyes. Inside the box is an envelope made out to her written in her mother’s handwriting, $20,000 in cash, and little black book. The envelope was yellowed with age but she noted nothing else distinctive about the envelope. The cash was all new bills in sequential order in two stacks, each wrapped in a $10,000 strap. The book had a black leather cover and it reminded Brielle of a journal. That’s it? An envelope, cash, and a little black book is going to explain everything she thought. She quickly opened the envelope and inside she found a letter her mom wrote to her.

My Dearest Daughter,

If you are reading this my worst nightmare has come true. It means they have finally tracked you down. I am sure you have a lot of questions so I hope this letter helps answer those questions. First things first, your real name is Nicolette Morelli and your actual birthday is 9/2/87. You are the daughter of Maria and Nico Morelli who is the heir and underboss of the Italian-American mafia. Your grandfather Nino is the boss otherwise known as the Godfather. I was your nanny 30 years ago when you were 4 years old. I was young, naïve and the pay was amazing. Your parents offered me a $20,000 sign on bonus. You were such a smart child, very inquisitive for your age. You were so loving and craved affection that your parents often denied you of. You and I developed a close bond very quickly and you even started calling me “Mom”. One night in particular the house was filled with tension as your father and grandfather had an emergency meeting with the top men in the organization. Word got back to the house staff that your grandfather was planning a huge attack on the Irish mafia. Knowing that retaliation was on the horizon, I decided to concoct a plan to save your life. I was going to kidnap you. Counting on the loyalty of the house staff, I asked the chauffeur if he knew where we could get all new identities for the two us. I was able to get brand new passports for us in a matter of days. The night after the attack on the Irish mafia, which ended the lives of 12 people, you and I escaped in the dead of night. We moved around every 6 months in the first few years due to my fear that someone would come after us. I always viewed you as my daughter even though I didn’t give birth to you. I wanted you to have a better life that wasn’t filled with violence and murder. I hope you can forgive me. The enclosed book is now your most valuable possession and inside you will find your next steps. Love, Mom (aka Toni Russo)

Brielle sat for a moment absorbing all this new information. She was biologically related to one of the most notorious mafias in modern day. She recalled in her Criminology class in undergrad they devoted a whole chapter to the Morelli family. She even remembered reading about the mysterious abduction of the only daughter of Nico and Maria on the night they were gruesomely murdered as retaliation by the Irish mafia. That was me she thought. She grabbed the black book and flipped through the pages. In the back of the book there were dozens of newspaper clippings pasted onto the pages detailing lots of unsolved murders law enforcement believed to be linked to the Italian-American mafia but didn’t have enough evidence for a conviction. Brielle thought her mom must have included the articles to show her the type of dangerous people she shared blood with. In the front of the book on the inside cover, Brielle found a phone number with the words For a new identity call next to it. On the next couple of pages there were several “safe contacts” and addresses for “safe houses” for Brielle to use to help get her started with a new life under a new identity. Brielle smiled to herself at the realization that she could now be anyone she wanted to be and she could go anywhere she wanted to go.

The End