“Isn’t that amazing,” she spit contemptuously. “You sit down to play cards and next thing you know, you’ve inherited someone’s family.”
He said nothing, just looked at her with his hazel eyes, so focused, so alert, so watchful.
“It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense!” Sam crossed her arms over her chest, knuckles pressed to her ribs. “What do you want with us?”
“Maybe I’m a generous man with a sympathetic heart.”
“Heart?” Sam heard the word burst from her lips, cold, icy. “No, I don’t think that’s it at all. There’s something else happening here, something far more—” She broke off, bit back the word that crowded her mind. She couldn’t say sinister in front of Gabby, couldn’t alarm Gabby. Instead she shook her head, swallowed her fury and fear and reaching out, placed her hand protectively on the top of Gabby’s head.
“I’m going to go upstairs,” she said more calmly. “Check and see if Johann left me a note. I’m sure he did. I’m sure he’ll have us join him as soon as he reaches wherever he’s gone.”
Cristiano’s eyebrows lifted. “If you think so.”
“I think so,” she snapped, but of course she didn’t think anything of the sort. She wouldn’t be surprised if Johann had just fled. It was in his nature to run from problems.
Cristiano pursed his lips but held his tongue. He didn’t think Johann was coming back. Not now. Not ever.
Sam hurried up the stairs with Gabby scampering at her side. Johann’s room was dark and empty. Sam opened the closet, the four wide bureau drawers, and finally the small drawer in the night table but everything was empty save for a drawing Gabby had made him lying in the middle dresser drawer.
Sam took the crayon drawing out, looked at the picture which was one of the childish drawings where everyone is a stick figure either wearing a triangle dress or rectangle pants. The picture was meant to be Johann, Sam and Gabby all down at the beach, as if that was the way they were. A family.
They were no family. They’d never been a family, despite Sam’s best efforts.
Sam didn’t hear Cristiano come up behind her and when he spoke she jumped. “That’s a lovely picture of the van Bergens on holiday,” he said.
Eyes burning, face flushed, Sam quickly folded the picture and put it in the pocket of her lavender cardigan. It was that or cry, and she wouldn’t cry, hated crying, having spent far too many years as a little girl in tears. If she’d learned anything, it was to present a confident face to the world. No one needed to know what she was thinking, or feeling. No one needed to know the truth. “Gabby’s a very talented artist.”
“And optimistic,” he added mockingly.
She was just turning to walk out when she spotted an envelope on the bed, propped against Johann’s pillow. Her name was written on the envelope.
Her hand shook ever so slightly as she ripped the envelope open and shook the papers out. Birth certificate, and a paper-clipped set of legal documents slid out. The birth certificate and papers were Gabriela’s.
He was leaving her, Sam thought, suppressing horror even as it mixed with hope.
She unfolded the note, read Johann’s wildly slanted scrawl.
Sam, I’m finished, gone, going home to Vienna. I thought together we had a good chance to beat Bartolo, but the game’s up. Bartolo plays to win, and he’s won. If it’s any consolation, Gabby’s yours. You know better what to do with her than me. I’ve lost it all now. Best of luck. You’ll need it. Johann van Bergen.
“What is that?” Cristiano asked.
A miracle, Sam thought, heart racing, eyes stinging. She blinked, turned the note around, held it up for him to see. “Read it.”
He did, then silently handed it back.
“She’s mine.” Sam said quietly, fiercely, heart so full of emotion she wasn’t even thinking. Just feeling. Gabby, gorgeous little Gabby was finally safe, finally hers, finally out of harm’s way.
All these years…
All the worrying, the struggling, the praying. She’d prayed for a miracle and she’d finally got one.