Homeless at 19, he bought a rusty houseboat for $10: what he…..

2 Venice October Ginevra Ferretti was 19 years old and had been sleeping on the steps of the Jesuit church for 21 days she wasn’t what you imagine when you think of a homeless person she didn’t have the worn out look of someone who has given up she had a grey backpack on her shoulders glasses crooked on a nose that had been cold for weeks and a notepad where she wrote down everything her expenses, her thoughts, the names of the people who had asked her to move her mother had died on September 3 her stepfather had changed the locks on the 5th
she was still at the cemetery when she heard the metallic click of the new lock she had knocked for 40 minutes then stopped that October morning while she was walking along the Rio della Misericordia with €4.72 in her pocket she saw the sign it was handwritten on a sheet of plastic paper glued to a boat rusty house floating against a rotten wooden pier for sale first €10 remove it by tomorrow the boat was a grotesque thing the peeling wood was aquamarine the broken windows blocked with cardboard a door that hung crooked from the hinges
moss along the edge of the water smell of old algae and rust but it had a roof Ginevra stopped counted the money in her pocket €4 and 72 cents opened the secret compartment of the backpack where she kept the emergency items €5 and 20 €9 and 92 cents looked up at the boat 8 cents missing the old man who was collecting nets 20m away saw her staring at the sign then he slowly got up approached took out of the pocket of his worn trousers a €1 coin and placed it on the dock without saying a word then went back to his nets
today Ginevra bought the boat but what she found that same evening hidden under a plank of the cabin floor was not what she expected to find in an abandoned boat it was a rusty metal box sealed with dark waxed tape and written on it with a permanent marker that time had faded but not erased there was a name her name Ginevra didn’t open the box that night she held it in her hand for almost an hour sitting on the cabin floor with the phone’s flashlight on listening to the noise Of the water beneath her and the 20o that came in through the cracks in the
cardboard on the windows her name written there on a boat that an old stranger had sold her for €10 her hands were shaking not from the cold even if it was cold they were shaking because she recognized that handwriting she couldn’t place it it was like a word that you have on the tip of your tongue and that slips away every time you try to grasp it she knew it her mind was sure she knew it but the mind refused to complete the connection she placed it on a crooked shelf and wrapped herself in the sleeping bag she slept badly the next morning
with the gray light of October coming in through the half-broken porthole she opened the box inside there were 3 things a bunch of photographs held together by an elastic band that had dried out and broke at the first touch a letter in a sealed envelope addressed to Ginevra when the time comes and a document folded in 4 with an official stamp that Ginevra didn’t immediately recognize until she opened it and saw the words municipality of Venice act of recognition of paternity the name of the mother Elena Ferretti her
father’s name Matteo Conti date October 12th twenty years earlier Ginevra was 19 years old she did the calculation 3 times it didn’t add up the document had been drawn up when she was already one year old but her mother had always told her that her father had died before she was born accident at sea no documents no photos no story just that phrase repeated every time Ginevra had asked questions he died before meeting you there ‘s nothing else to know the photographs were still in her hand she turned them over in the first one there was her mother young
twenty years old maybe with hair in the 20s on what looked like a pier next to her a tall man dark hair a crooked smile to the left then Ginevra brought the photograph near the porthole to see it better then she remained still that man wasn’t dead that man was the old man who had given her the €1 coin Ginevra got out of the boat so quickly that she almost fell into the canal the pier was deserted no nets no service boats no old man with calloused hands and light eyes who had looked at her speechless then she started running along the shore she
turned 2 calli questioned a woman who was carrying the groceries a boy with a bicycle a bartender who was lowering the shutter no one knew him no one had ever seen him then he returned to the boat with his legs that hurt and opened the letter the handwriting was the same as the marker on the box stopped slightly tilted to the right with the t’s cut too low an old person’s habit hi Ginevra if you are reading this letter you found the boat and if you found the boat it means that you are alone and that she is no longer here
I’m sorry I do n’t know where to start so I’ll start from the beginning I am your father my name is matteo conti and I have always lived in Venice like you even if you don’t know it I knew where you slept I waited for the right moment I never approached because Elena had asked me your mother had her reasons some I understand some I do n’t some I will carry with me forever but there is one thing you must know and that she perhaps never told you Roberto didn’t put you on the street because of pain he put you on the street because he is afraid of what you know
even if you don’t know it yet in the box not there is only the past there is also a key then Ginevra remained staring at the paper then she reopened the box under the photographs that she had removed without looking carefully there was a Bordeaux velvet pocket sewn on the inside bottom of the box inside a small modern key with an engraved number 14 and an address written on the back of 1 receipt from 2019 campo Santa Margherita 14s floor mailbox before going to campo Santa Margherita Ginevra forced herself to stop
sat on the edge of the pier with her feet dangling in the water and forced herself to think in order Roberto Maran the stepfather married to her Mother when Ginevra was 4 years old a quiet man apparently an accountant low voice predictable habits he had never hit her he had never yelled at her in a way that left visible scars he had simply always made it clear in 1000 subtle ways that she was a guest in that house not a daughter now her Mother had been dead for 6 weeks and he had put her out before the Earth on the grave dried
because she had always said to herself why is he a cold man and he never loved me simple answer convenient answer but the letter said something else he put you out on the street because he’s afraid of what you know even if you don’t know it yet Roberto what did Ginevra know she started to scroll through her memories like leafing through a disorganized drawer the apartment with a hard back the silent dinners Roberto who often worked in the office in the evenings his mother who sometimes had red eyes but never explained why
and then a memory that had remained buried under the others small apparently insignificant Ginevra was 15 years old she had entered Roberto’s office to get some tape and had seen an open folder on the desk she had read by mistake or maybe not maybe she had read on purpose with that deaf curiosity of adolescents a letterhead on a sheet of paper ferr
etti immobiliare s.r.l the surname of her mother his grandmother her but her mother had never had any company she had asked Cena that evening Roberto had replied that it was an old work file from a client and her mother had changed the subject so quickly that Ginevra had forgotten to insist now she remembered then she got up picked up her backpack put the key in her pocket and went to Campo Santa Margherita did n’t yet know what she would find in that box but she had the feeling that physical sensation in her stomach that once opened there was no going back
Campo Santa Margherita was full of university students with coffees in their hands and their bikes parked crookedly Ginevra crossed the field without looking at anyone she found the house number 14 an ochre-colored building with a faded green door there was no intercom with the name Conti The door was open she went up to the second floor on the landing a row of black metal mailboxes numbered number 14 was the last in the row slightly dented on the left side the key turned on the first try inside there was a thick brown envelope
Ginevra opened it there standing on the landing with the stairs echoing under the footsteps of someone on the floor above there were documents so many documents notarial deeds land registry extracts company registrations it took 15 minutes just to understand what it was about Ginevra wasn’t a law specialist but had studied accounting for 2 years before leaving school to look after her mother sick 3 ferretti immobiliare s.r.l.
was the company she had seen on Roberto’s desk 10 years earlier. It had been founded by her maternal grandmother in 1987. Upon her grandmother’s death in 2009, it had passed entirely to her mother, Elena Ferretti, sole heir. Up until then, everything was normal. But there was a deed from 2018, 5 years earlier, when her mother was already ill but not yet at the worst point, which transferred 90% of the company shares to Roberto Maran.
Her mother’s signature was at the bottom of the page. Ginevra stared at it for a long time. He knew that signature. He had seen it on hundreds of documents, tickets, postcards. It was her mother’s signature. But there was something strange, something subtle that made her feel uneasy. Then she took out of her wallet the paternity identification document she had found in the box.
She opened it and looked for her mother’s signature at the bottom with 2 words on the 2018 document. Elena Giulia Ferretti’s g was different, bigger, rounder. Her mother wrote the g with a narrow loop. She had always done it. It was recognizable so that g was fake Roberto had forged his mother’s signature and had taken everything Ginevra returned to the dock with legs that she couldn’t feel she sat in the cabin of the boat the documents on her knee and for the first time in 6 weeks she cried not the suppressed crying that you do when you’re in public
and you’re ashamed but she really cried the kind of crying that scratches your throat and leaves your eyes swollen for hours then she blew her nose put the documents back in the envelope and waited she had a suspicion more than a suspicion that her father would return to the dock she arrived at dusk with a slow pace hands in the pockets of a dark blue jacket he was older than the photographs obviously white hair now shoulders hunched inward like someone who has spent years defending himself from the 20th but the crooked smile to the left was the same
he stopped on the dock he looked at her Have you read the letter she said it wasn’t a question he answered she said why didn’t you come forward before said Ginevra her voice came out harder than she intended matteo conti sat on the dock with her feet dangling on the dark water one of your mothers had asked me when she got really sick she wrote me a letter she told me where you were sleeping she told me that Roberto would have thrown you out he wanted me to find you but in his own way not introducing myself not explaining everything at once
with the box why because in his own way he remained silent for a few seconds hello if you are enjoying this story leave a like and subscribe to our channel now let’s continue with the video for a few seconds because he was ashamed of how things had gone of never having told you the truth Ginevra opened the brown envelope and placed the documents on the pier between them matteo looked at them he did n’t seem surprised You already know said Ginevra I suspected I had no proof now you have them he took the 2018 deed in his hand he
looked at it for a long time his fingers were still the hand of a man who has learned not to show what he feels said ferretti immobiliare it’s not a small company he said in a low voice your grandmother was an intelligent woman in the 80s she bought entire buildings in canna reggio when they were worth nothing now they are worth 1,000,000 Ginevra stared at him 3,000,000 repeats Roberto didn’t put you on the street out of cruelty said Matteo he put you on the street because you are the only natural heir of your mother
and as long as you are alive and know the history of the company you are a threat to the one who took the canal made its slow noise a gondola passed in the distance what do we do now said Ginevra her father looked at her with those clear eyes that she had and didn’t know Who she had taken them from until that moment now he said let’s go to a notary the notary was called Eleonora Vitale and she had her office in a narrow building near the Rialto Bridge with high ceilings and worn Venetian terrazzo floors she was a sixty year old woman
with reading glasses hanging from a gold chain and a way of listening that made every word important matteo had known her for years he didn’t explain how and Ginevra didn’t ask Ginevra put the documents on the desk Vitale examined them for 20 minutes in silence taking notes on a spiral notebook with a green pen he looked up every now and then first at the documents then at Ginevra then at the documents again finally he took off his glasses the signature is fake he said bluntly the g is clearly different from the authentic sample an
official handwriting assessment is needed but I have no doubts how long it will take matteo asked for the assessment 2 weeks maximum for the rest no the vitale crossed her hands on the desk it depends if Mr. Maran disputes yes they go to court and it takes years if he accepts the evidence it can be resolved out of court but in both cases the position of her daughter is solid Ginevra listened as if from the outside of herself solid her position was solid 3 weeks before she was sleeping on the steps of a church
there is something else said the vitale opened a drawer took a file when matteo contacted me last week I did some preliminary checks the ferretti immobiliare has 3 properties in canna reggio and 1 in San Polo total cadastral value €4,300,000 market value probably the double silence but what is more interesting continued the vitale opening the The file is that one of the properties, the Palazzo on Fondamenta della Misericordia, remained under separate management and was never included in the 2018 transfer.
Why, Ginevra said, was it registered directly to your grandmother with an explicit testamentary clause? Vitale turned a piece of paper towards her. In the event of Elena Ferretti’s death without a valid testamentary provision, the Palazzo passes to the direct descendant of the first degree. Then Ginevra stared at it, at me, at you, at her.
Outside the window, the Grand Canal flowed indifferently as always. Matteo didn’t say anything, then he placed a hand on the armrest of Ginevra’s chair, not on her hand, not yet, he hadn’t taken that confidence, but close enough to feel it. Ginevra looked at the paper for a long moment, then raised her eyes at Vitale. I want to do the right thing, she said, I do n’t want Roberto to go to prison by force, I only want what was my mother’s and I want her to not be able to harm anyone else.
Vitale nodded slowly, so let’s begin. She said the handwriting analysis arrived in 13 days, it confirmed what Vitale had said, the signature on the deed. of 2018 was false the difference was measurable documentable incontrovertible that same morning Vitale sent Roberto Maran a formal communication Ginevra was not present when Roberto opened the envelope she did not see him turn pale she did not see his hands trembling on the papers she found out later from a neighbor of Della Vecchia house of hard back who had known Matteo for years
Roberto did not contest anything he called his lawyer the lawyer called Vitale and in a week everything was on the way to being resolved but what really changed things was not the appraisal nor the documents nor the phone calls between lawyers it was the second letter it was in the brown envelope glued to the bottom Ginevra had not seen it the first time because it was inside 1s layer of cardboard sewn with transparent fishing line she discovered it almost by chance 3 days after the appraisal while she was rereading the documents for the fourth time
the envelope was addressed to her in her mother’s handwriting not the one in her father’s letter this was Elena Ferretti’s hand the g with the narrow loop unmistakable hello Ginevra My if you are Reading this I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done I asked Matteo to find you this means I didn’t make it and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you these things in person I owe you the truth about many things let’s start with the one that hurts the most no Matteo is not dead I told you because I was afraid afraid of you of how you would look at me
if you knew that I had kept you away from your father for years without a reason True no yes he had hurt me in his own way and I used you to punish him it’s a bad thing to admit I know the second thing Roberto is not the monster that maybe you think he is now he was a weak man who made a bad choice when he was scared I waited too long before writing a valid will and he took advantage of a moment when I was no longer able to understand well I don’t justify him but I ask you not to hate him the third thing the one that matters most the
Palazzo della misericordia belonged to your grandmother it’s yours I never wanted to sell it even when the money wasn’t enough because I knew that one day it would be for you your grandmother made me promise live Ginevra you’re fine I love you more than you ever knew and less than I should have shown you mom Ginevra sat in the boat cabin for a long time the canal was sliding out of the porthole Venice made its watery noise then she folded the letter carefully put it back in the envelope and cried but in a different way than before
not that crying that burns the one that washes the Palace was at number 7 Fondamenta della Misericordia Ginevra went there on a Monday morning with Matteo and Vitale and a copy of the notarial documents in a new folder that Vitale had given her it was an 18th century palace narrow and tall with arched windows and burnt earth colored plaster that was peeling equally on all 4 floors on the ground floor there was a bed and breakfast run by a seventy year old lady Rosaria who had known the name Ferretti since before Ginevra was born
when Ginevra showed up Rosaria stood still in the doorway for almost a whole minute she said 6 identical to your grandmother she said finally come in they went up to the fourth floor the last one that was left Closed for years, Rosaria opened the door with a key that she kept hanging around her neck on a red cord.
Elena said she left it to me. She said she told me that when her daughter came, I should give her everything that was inside. Inside, there was a house that was n’t big. Three rooms, low ceilings for a Venetian palace, the windows looked out onto the canal, but it was kept clean. Rosaria had vacuumed it every month, she had changed the curtains, she had kept the books in order on the shelves.
The books were her grandmother’s. Ginevra approached the bookcase and ran a finger along the spines. Italian novels, accounting manuals from the 70s: a collection of photographs of Venice, bound in leather. Then she opened it. There was a photograph of her mother as a child on the dock of a boat. She was laughing.
Ginevra stood looking at that photograph for a time she couldn’t measure. Then she turned to Matteo, who had remained on the threshold without entering, as if waiting for permission. ” Hey, come in,” she said. It was the first time she had used that tone with him. Not hostile, not wary, just normal, as they say. Come in to someone who has the right to enter.
he entered, approached the bookcase, took a book, an old one atlas with the blue cloth cover and he leafed through it without really looking at it your grandmother met me in 1992 she said she knew about Ginevra we kept in touch for years even when Elena didn’t want it it was she who bought the boat it was she who wrote the number on the box Ginevra stared at it your grandmother organized all this long before she died she knew that sooner or later you would need it how few people knew the rosary me and the vital
your grandmother had been a customer of hers for thirty years Ginevra looked at the room the windows on the canal the November light that came in slanting and made the dust particles in the air sparkle she had slept 21 nights on the steps of a church now she was home 3 weeks later Venice had the first high water of the season Ginevra saw it arriving at dawn standing at the fourth floor window with a cup of coffee in her hand 3 new habits that of coffee in the morning that she had bought together with a moka pot and a box of biscuits
the first day she had her own kitchen the water rose slowly as it always does with that ancient patience that It belongs to the sea in an hour Fondamenta della Misericordia was under 30cm of water Verde Roberto had signed the out-of-court agreement 4 days earlier he returned the shares of Ferretti Immobiliare he renounced any claim on the properties in exchange Ginevra did not proceed criminally for the false signature Vitale had negotiated every comma and in the end Roberto had signed with a blue pen on a white sheet of paper
in a silent office without looking up Ginevra had not been present she had not needed it when Vitale had called her to give her the news Ginevra was on the dock of the boat her boat that she had pulled up next to Fondamenta della Misericordia and that she was slowly fixing up with the money from the first rent collected From Rosaria yes it’s done said Vitale thanks said Ginevra then she hung up and looked at the water of the canal for a long moment without thinking anything that morning of high water while the coffee was getting cold in her hands
she heard a knock on the door on the fourth floor it was Matteo with rubber boots and a shopping bag he said I brought the bread he said the Rosaria bakery was still open come in said Ginevra new as they say to people who have the right to enter then they had breakfast looking at the high water from the windowsill they didn’t talk much they weren’t at that point yet not yet and maybe it would take years some distances are bridged with time not with words but they ate the warm bread together and that was enough
and later that day Ginevra went down to the pier and stood for a moment in front of the rusty aquamarine boat she had blocked the windows with real glass now the door was no longer hanging she had applied a coat of primer to the wood even if the final paint was still waiting she opened the grey notebook she always carried in her backpack and wrote total cost of the operation €10 value returned immeasurable then she closed the notebook Venice made its noise of water that never stops in any season at any time a noise that to Ginevra before seemed like a warning
as if the city was saying here everything is precarious here everything can be submerged now it seemed like something else to her it seemed like a promise You know that disappeared things come back that the foundations hold up even under the water that certain walls eh the real ones the ones that they count they don’t collapse even when everything else is gone