“What is it?”
“Nothing. The baby moved.”
His hand hovered over her stomach.
“Can I?”
She nodded.
He placed his palm there. The movement came again, faint but unmistakable.
Julian laughed once, helplessly, and pressed his lips together.
“He has terrible timing.”
“Or excellent timing.”
A knock sounded at the door.
Marian entered with Thomas and Nora. Thomas carried a small wooden box. Nora held a stack of letters tied with blue ribbon.
“The investigators have finished with the immediate evidence,” Marian said. “Victoria has been taken to the courthouse. The judge denied bail.”
Julian’s hand tightened around Elena’s.
Marian placed the wooden box on the table.
“This was found inside Daniel Sterling’s old desk. Thomas knew it was there but never had the courage to open it.”
Thomas looked at Julian.
“I thought if it contained something that proved she was guilty, she would kill me. If it contained nothing, I would have spent twenty-four years being afraid for nothing.”
Julian opened the box.
Inside lay a brass compass, a fountain pen, and an envelope addressed in Daniel’s handwriting.
For Julian, when you are old enough to understand.
Julian stared at the words.
“I was twelve.”
“Your father may have meant later,” Thomas said. “Or he may have known you would find it only when you were ready.”
Julian opened the envelope.
The letter was brief.
My son,
There will be people who tell you that loyalty means protecting your family from the truth. It does not. Loyalty means refusing to let the people you love become smaller versions of their worst choices.
If I fail to come home, remember that you were never responsible for saving me. You are responsible only for deciding what kind of man you will be afterward.
Love,
Dad
