Chapter 2

Julian did not shout. He turned to the security guard and said, “Let her go.”

The guard released me. I stumbled, and Eli wrapped both arms around my waist. Mrs. Prescott stepped forward, her heels clicking. “Mr. Thorne, this woman stole-”

“Mrs. Prescott,” Julian said, “if you say another word, I will have the board review every donor gift you have ever solicited.”

Her mouth shut.

Julian led us through a side door into the Hall of Astronomy. The blue dome light followed us. Gala music faded behind the glass. He stopped beside a scale model of Saturn and held out his hand.

Eli shrank against me.

“It’s all right,” I said. My voice didn’t sound all right. I unclasped the pendant from Eli’s neck and placed it in Julian’s palm.

He turned it over. His thumb traced the star engraving. Then he found the tiny initials scratched inside the crescent. E.T.

Julian’s breath caught. “Eliza.”

I didn’t correct him. I couldn’t.

He looked up. “You died. Sixteen years ago. The boat. The lake.”

“I didn’t die.”

“Who are you?”

I swallowed. “I am Eliza Thorne.”

Julian closed his fingers around the pendant. For a moment he looked like a man holding a live coal. “You’re alive.”

“Yes.”

“And this child?”

“My son. Eli.”

Julian’s eyes went to Eli, then to me. “Daniel’s?”

I nodded. Daniel Vaughn. My husband. Dead five years. I had not said his name out loud in months.

Julian took a slow step back. He was not a man who showed surprise. Tonight, surprise moved across his face like weather. “I buried you,” he said. “I buried an empty coffin. I sat shiva for you. I paid for the search.”

“You never came for me,” I said.

“I was told you drowned.”

I heard Mrs. Prescott’s voice in the rotunda, sharp and muffled. Julian turned toward the door. Then he turned back.

“How long have you been in Chicago?”

“Ten years.”

“With my grandson?”

“Your grandson knows nothing about you.”

Julian’s hand tightened on the pendant. “Does Victor Kessler know you’re alive?”

The name hit me like cold water. Victor Kessler. The museum donor. The man who had smiled at the gala program. The man who had killed Daniel while I watched from a closet.

I shook my head. “No.”

Julian’s face went pale. “Then we have very little time.”

At the rotunda doors, a security radio crackled. A voice said, “Mr. Kessler is arriving.”