Cinderella meet Mr. Wolf

Chapter 35: The Ghost of Truth

Elara stared at the name in the journal, her mind reeling from the revelation.  Isabella Corleone.  It couldn’t be.  Could it?

She reread the entry, her eyes scanning the words, her mind struggling to make sense of the truth.  Vito had erased Isabella's memories, had stolen her identity, had made her forget who she was.  But why?  Why would he do that to her?  Why would he make her forget her family, her history, her past?

And why would he give her a different name, a name that was so close to her own?  Why would he call her Isabella Russo?

As Elara continued to read the journal, she began to understand.  Vito had believed that he was protecting Isabella, that he was saving her from the dangers of the underworld.  He had believed that the only way to keep her safe was to make her forget who she was, to erase her memories, to make her a new person, a person who was not connected to the Corleone family, a person who was not a target.

But in doing so, he had done something far worse.  He had lost her.  He had made her a ghost, a phantom, a shadow, a woman who had been erased from the world, a woman who had been lost to the darkness.

Elara felt a wave of sympathy for Vito, a surge of empathy for the man who had been consumed by love, a love that had blinded him, a love that had destroyed him.  She understood his pain, his desperation, his fear.  He had lost everything, his family, his friends, his sanity.  And yet, he had clung to the one thing that remained, his love for Isabella.

But she also knew that he had betrayed Sonny, that he had orchestrated Isabella’s disappearance, that he had played a part in the tragedy that had engulfed the Corleone family.  She couldn’t simply forgive him, couldn’t simply turn away from the truth.

Elara knew she had to find Isabella, to restore her memories, to help her reclaim her identity, to bring her back from the brink of oblivion.  She knew that she had to face the ghosts of the past, no matter the cost.

But she also knew that finding Isabella would be no easy task.  She was a ghost, a phantom, a shadow, a woman who had been erased from the world, a woman who had been lost to the darkness.  But Elara was determined to find her, to bring her back, to make her whole again.

She was determined to bring justice to the ghosts of the past, no matter the cost.




Elara stood in the Vault, the weight of her discovery pressing down on her.  She had learned that Isabella Corleone, the daughter of Sonny, the woman who had been lost to the darkness, was hiding in plain sight.  Vito had erased her memories, stolen her identity, and changed her name to Isabella Russo, believing that he was protecting her from the dangers of the underworld.

But in doing so, he had done something far worse. He had lost her. He had made her a ghost, a phantom, a shadow, a woman who had been erased from the world.

Elara knew that she had to find Isabella, to restore her memories, to help her reclaim her identity, to bring her back from the brink of oblivion.  She knew that she had to face the ghosts of the past, no matter the cost.

But she also knew that finding Isabella would be no easy task.  She was a ghost, a phantom, a shadow, a woman who had been erased from the world, a woman who had been lost to the darkness.  But Elara was determined to find her, to bring her back, to make her whole again.

She was determined to bring justice to the ghosts of the past, no matter the cost.

Elara had to find a way to find Isabella, to reach her, to help her.  She had to find a way to penetrate the darkness that had consumed her, to break through the walls that Vito had built around her, to bring her back from the brink of oblivion.

She knew she had to start somewhere.  She had to find a clue, a whisper, a shadow, a ghost of a memory.  She had to find a way to break through the silence, to break through the darkness, to find Isabella.

She looked around the Vault, her eyes scanning the shelves, the books, the papers, the photographs.  She saw a collection of journals, their pages filled with a man’s handwritten entries, his thoughts, his feelings, his fears.

She opened one of the journals, her eyes scanning the words, her mind trying to make sense of the scrawled script.  The words were filled with anguish, with remorse, with regret.  They spoke of a love lost, a betrayal, a life destroyed.

The words spoke of Vito Russo.

But they also spoke of Isabella.

They spoke of a woman who had been taken from her life, a woman who had been erased from the world, a woman who had been lost to the darkness.

They spoke of a woman who had been silenced.

And then, Elara found it.  A single, seemingly insignificant entry, buried deep within the pages of the journal, a name that sent a chill down her spine.

The name was Isabella.  But not Isabella Russo.

Isabella Corleone.

Elara’s heart sank.  It couldn’t be.  Could it?

But as she reread the entry, she realized that it was true.  Vito had not only erased Isabella’s memories, he had also replaced her identity with a new one, a new life, a new name.  He had made her forget her family, her history, her past.  He had made her forget who she was.

Elara felt a wave of sympathy for Isabella, a surge of empathy for the woman who had been taken from her life, a woman who had been lost to the darkness.  She understood her pain, her confusion, her fear.

And she knew that she had to find her, to help her, to bring her back from the brink of oblivion.