“Ethan!”
Daniel's voice disappeared beneath the music.
Ethan ran between the guests and straight into Anna.
She barely had time to kneel before the boy wrapped both arms around her.
For several seconds, Anna didn't move.
Then her face collapsed.
She held him.
Ethan buried his face against her shoulder.
“You smell like her.”
Anna closed her eyes.
Daniel stopped several feet away.
He had spent three years trying to help his son remember Claire without becoming trapped inside the loss.
Yet Ethan was holding a stranger as if some part of his childhood had suddenly returned.
The ballroom became silent.
Rebecca approached Daniel but didn't interfere.
Then Daniel noticed his mother.
Everyone else looked confused.
Margaret looked terrified.
Anna opened her eyes and saw Daniel.
“He remembers more than you were told.”
Daniel's grief immediately turned into suspicion.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret moved forward.
“This isn't the place.”
Anna stood while keeping one hand on Ethan's shoulder.
“You made sure there was never a place.”
Daniel looked at his mother.
“Who is she?”
Margaret said nothing.
Anna reached for her pendant.
She opened it.
Inside was a tiny photograph.
Daniel stepped closer.
Claire and Anna.
Much younger.
Arms around each other.
“She was my sister,” Anna said.
Daniel shook his head.
“Claire was an only child.”
“No. That's what your family wanted you to believe.”
Margaret interrupted.
“That is enough.”
Anna's voice trembled.
“You erased me from her life. You don't get to erase me from her death too.”
Guests began exchanging glances.
Daniel told everyone the celebration was over.
Rebecca quietly helped clear the room.
Twenty minutes later, Daniel, Anna and Margaret stood inside the library.
Ethan sat beside Daniel.
“Start talking,” Daniel said.
Anna looked at Margaret.
“Ask her why every letter I sent Ethan disappeared.”
Daniel frowned.
“What letters?”
“Birthdays. Christmas. The anniversary of Claire's death. I sent him photographs. Stories about his mother. Things Claire wanted him to know.”
“I never received anything.”
“I know.”
Anna opened her handbag and removed postal receipts.
Daniel looked at Margaret.
“Mom?”
Margaret's silence was enough.
Then Anna delivered the detail that changed everything.
“Those weren't the only letters she kept from you.”
Daniel looked back at her.
Anna's eyes filled.
“Claire wrote one too.”