“Where?”
“In a town called Maribel Crossing. She used another name. She was sick, but her mind was sharp. She told me if I had any love left for you, I would stop running from what I did and start running toward the truth.”
Vanessa held out the pouch.
“I was supposed to give you this if I found you before Bell did.”
I did not step forward.
Luca did.
Not to take it, but to stand halfway between us, giving me time.
Vanessa looked at him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
His jaw tightened.
“You drugged me.”
“I know.”
“You let Sarah believe—”
“I know.” Her voice broke. “There is nothing I can say that makes it smaller.”
For a moment, Luca looked like the old anger might claim him. Then his gaze shifted toward me, and something in him settled.
“No,” he said quietly. “There isn’t.”
He did not forgive her.
He did not need to.
But he did not let the past decide the next breath.
I stepped forward and took the pouch.
Inside was a small brass locket.
My grandmother’s locket.
The one buried with her.
My knees nearly failed.
I opened it.
Inside was not a photograph, as I remembered. The old pictures had been removed. In their place was a folded piece of thin paper, so small I had to unfold it with a fingernail.
On it, in my grandmother’s handwriting, were three words:
Ask the twins.
A chill passed through me.
“The twins?” Luca said.
Vanessa looked confused. “What twins?”
I closed the locket slowly.
“My children.”
Her face changed completely.
