“She came to the home where they kept me. She said my mother died in an accident. She said I had no one.”
Henry’s face went white.
“What home?”
The girl looked up at him with tears streaming down her face.
“The one they sent me to after my mother disappeared.”
Vanessa stepped forward, her voice sharp.
“This is ridiculous. She’s obviously lying. Anyone could have stolen that bracelet.”
But Henry wasn’t listening to her.
He was staring at the girl’s face.
At her eyes.
Eleanor’s eyes.
“What’s your name?” he asked quietly.
The girl hesitated.
“They called me Anna. But my mother used to call me something else. Before they took her.”
Henry’s hand shook as he reached for the bracelet.
“What did she call you?”
The girl looked straight at Evelyn.
“She called me her little rose. And she told me that no matter what happened, I should never forget the bracelet. She said it would bring me home.”
Evelyn stood abruptly, knocking her chair backward.
“Henry, don’t listen to this. She’s clearly been coached—”
“Then explain the bracelet,” Henry said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.
Evelyn’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
The girl took a step closer.
“She told me my mother was gone. But I heard her on the phone that night. She said, ‘The girl doesn’t know anything. We can keep her quiet.'”
Henry turned to his wife, his face unreadable.
“Evelyn. Where is Eleanor?”
Evelyn’s fingers locked around the edge of the marble table until her knuckles went bloodless.
Her breath came in short, shallow draws that lifted the pearls at her throat.
She did not look at Henry.
She looked at the bracelet, as if it might disappear if she stared hard enough.
