Chapter 2 - The Woman in the Louisiana Garden

Nico left before midnight.

Samuel came with him.

So did I.

My name is Lily Dawson.

Twenty-seven.

Maid.

And somehow I was now sitting in the back seat with a leather ledger on my lap and a locket that had divided two families for twenty-five years.

Victoria stayed behind.

At first.

Then Nico’s phone rang.

Her name.

He answered.

“What?”

“I’m coming.”

“No.”

“Nico.”

“I need to see my mother before I decide anything about us.”

“I know.”

“Then stay there.”

Silence.

Victoria whispered:

“My grandmother is in Louisiana too.”

Nico looked at Samuel.

The gardener’s face changed.

“What?”

Samuel took the phone.

“Victoria.”

She sounded surprised.

“Yes?”

“Your grandmother is alive?”

“Yes.”

Samuel closed his eyes.

Nico noticed.

“You thought she was dead.”

Samuel nodded.

“For nine years.”

Victoria said:

“She lives under another name.”

“Where?”

“Outside Baton Rouge.”

Samuel looked at Nico.

“That is forty minutes from your mother.”

Nico’s jaw tightened.

“Coincidence?”

“No.”

Victoria answered before Samuel could.

“They have seen each other.”

Nico stared at the road ahead.

“How do you know?”

“My grandmother told me.”

“When?”

“Three months ago.”

Nico laughed quietly.

“Of course.”

Victoria continued:

“She said your mother would not speak to anyone from my family except her.”

Nico asked:

“Why?”

A pause.

“Because my grandmother was the last person who saw your father before he disappeared.”

Samuel turned.

“What?”

Nico went still.

“At the train station?”

“Yes.”

Samuel whispered:

“I never knew that.”

Victoria said:

“She made me promise not to tell until Samuel found the ledger.”

Nico’s face hardened.

“Everyone loves promises when someone else pays for them.”

He ended the call.

Louisiana.

Morning.

A small house behind a white fence.

Garden roses.

Wind chimes.

Samuel stopped at the gate.

“She is there.”

Nico saw her.

Seventy.

Silver hair pinned back.

Blue gardening gloves.

She was kneeling beside lavender.

Nico did not move.

Neither did I.

Samuel opened the gate.

The woman looked up.

She saw him first.

Her face changed.

“Samuel.”

Then she saw Nico.

The gloves fell from her hands.

“Nico.”

He stopped ten feet away.

His mother.

Isabella Romano.

Alive.

He whispered:

“You know me.”

She started crying.

“I knew you the moment the car stopped.”

Nico looked at her face.

His own eyes.

His father’s smile.

“You left when I was ten.”

“Yes.”

“You thought Dad chose not to come.”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t.”

Her expression changed.

Nico took out the locket.

Half a heart.

His father’s photograph inside.

Isabella stared at it.

Samuel said softly:

“Tell her.”

Nico looked at his mother.

“Dad came back for me.”

She stopped breathing normally.

“What?”

“He reached the station.”

“No.”

“He did.”

Isabella looked at Samuel.

“Who told you?”

“I found witnesses.”

Nico continued.

“My uncle told him you already took me.”

Isabella shook her head.

“No.”

“He believed I was with you.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“And you believed he abandoned you.”

She covered her mouth.

Nico’s voice softened.

“He spent years looking for both of us.”

Isabella sat down on the garden bench.

“No.”

“He died six years ago.”

She bent forward.

Nico knelt in front of her.

For a long time, she could not speak.

Then:

“Where?”

“Arizona.”

“How?”

“Cancer.”

“Was he alone?”

Samuel answered.

“No.”

Isabella looked at him.

“He had friends. People who helped him search.”

Her eyes closed.

Nico said:

“He never stopped.”

She touched the locket.

“I hated him.”

Nico did not lie.

“He probably knew you might.”

She looked at her son.

“You look like him.”

“So everyone says.”

“No.”

She touched his cheek.

“You look like both of us.”

Silence.

Then a car stopped outside.

Nico stood.

Victoria got out.

Dark glasses.

No red gown now.

Simple black dress.

Beside her was an elderly woman.

Small.

White hair.

Cane.

Samuel whispered:

“Eleanor.”

Victoria’s grandmother.

She looked at Isabella.

The two women stared at each other.

Old guilt.

Old friendship.

Old secrets.

Nico said:

“You were at the train station.”

Eleanor nodded.

“Yes.”

“You saw my father.”

“Yes.”

“What did you tell him?”

Her eyes filled.

“The worst lie of my life.”

Nico waited.

Eleanor looked at Isabella.

Then at him.

“I told your father Isabella did not want him to follow.”

Isabella stood.

“What?”

Eleanor began crying.

“I am sorry.”

Nico’s face went cold.

“Why?”

“Because your uncle threatened Victoria’s grandfather.”

“That is not enough.”

“No.”

Eleanor shook her head.

“He threatened Victoria too.”

Victoria went still.

“I wasn’t born yet.”

Eleanor looked at her.

“Not you.”

Silence.

Victoria frowned.

“Then who?”

Eleanor closed her eyes.

“Your sister.”

Victoria stared.

“I don’t have a sister.”

Eleanor looked at Nico.

“Yes, she does.”

And Samuel slowly sat down.

Because he knew the name before Eleanor said it.

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