In here the air is different. There’s a stillness almost as if the ocean isn’t just beyond. Like the wind isn’t attempting to blow us off the top of this cliff. And it’s spotless. I guess I expected dust. Cobwebs. Creepy creatures in the darkest corners. But someone is taking care of the place. There’s even a lamp that’s burning a dim red.
“It’s one of the first things I did,” he says of the lantern. He releases my hand and walks toward the stone altar where the crucified Christ hangs overhead. I look up at him, make the sign of the cross.
He watches me, then shifts his gaze to wiping something off the altar, rearranging some of the things there.
“What are they?” I ask, stepping closer.
“My mom’s rosary beads. They should have buried them with her but didn’t. I don’t know why. These are their wedding bands.” He picks one up and turns it to read the engraving inside. Then hands it to me.
Inside is one word but it’s in a language I don’t know.
“What does it say?”
“Eternal, in my father’s.” He picks up the other one. “In my mother’s, Love.” He sets both back on the counter. “Latin.”
“Should you leave them here? I mean, they’re valuable.”
“No one comes up here but me or Dante.”
I look at the rosary. “Are those sapphires?”
He nods. “Lenore said dad had it made for mom. She kept them and only gave them to me when I woke up. And this is Elizabeth’s favorite bear. She never even had a chance to wear it out.”
I watch his hand fist around it. He turns away. From where I’m standing, I see his jaw tighten before he finally puts the stuffed animal down. It seems to take everything he has to do it, to release his fist, release his rage.
“What kind of monster kills a five-year-old girl?” he asks.
I touch his shoulder but have no words, so I lay my cheek on his back.
“Lenore stopped asking about Mara. I know she wants to every time she sees me but stops herself. Today, she mentioned that she loved her then corrected herself.”
“I need to tell you something,” I say.
“Past tense,” he continues like I haven’t spoken.
“Cristiano,” I touch his shoulder. “There’s something you need to hear.”
He turns to me. “What is it?”
“When they killed my parents, Noah and I were separated for the first two years. They kept him in Mexico and brought me with them. He…the day of the wedding I was in your sister’s room. Do you remember?”
He nods.
“Noah came there to see me.”
“I’m not really following.”
“While I was getting dressed, he must have been looking at the pictures. There was one in particular that caught his eye.” I take a moment, look away as I consider. Should I tell him? What if Noah’s wrong? What if he isn’t but it’s still too late?
“What is it, Scarlett?”
“I don’t want to get your hopes up.”
“What?”
“He could be wrong. I mean, it’s been ten years and they were both so little.”
His forehead wrinkles. He takes hold of my arms and squeezes. “Tell me.”
“He recognized one of the girls. Elizabeth’s friend.”
“What?”
“Someone had written the names of all the little girls on the back.”
“That’s what my brother saw? Noah with that photo?”
Should I be surprised Dante mentioned it? “Yes.”
“He shouldn’t—”
“He recognized her, Cristiano. He recognized Mara.”
This stops him. “What?”
“He didn’t know her name, but he knew her face.”
Cristiano shakes me once. “What are you talking about?”
“He said they’d brought her to Mexico. He said Jacob had been fed up when she wouldn’t stop crying and told him to play with her. Jacob told him her name was Elizabeth but he’s pretty sure it was Mara from the picture.”
“How?”
“You said Mara’s body wasn’t found. They left a mess. They wouldn’t have hidden one body or disposed of one body. It makes no sense considering.”
“What are you saying, Scarlett?”
“Is it possible they kidnapped Mara thinking she was Elizabeth?”
21
Cristiano
My head is swimming with thoughts of what Scarlett told me. Noah is off the island with some of the men, so I haven’t been able to question him. I haven’t told Dante or Lenore. I won’t. Not until I can make sense of it myself.
Is it possible Mara’s alive? Did they kidnap her thinking she was Elizabeth? To what end?
Blackmail? Who? They’d thought they’d killed us all.
But there’s one thing that makes sense and the thought makes me sick.
I take a deep breath in. I need to stay focused on the task at hand. If Mara’s alive, I will get her back. Bring her home.
“Sir,” the soldier peeks his head into my uncle’s study. I’m sitting behind my uncle’s desk looking through the photo album I found on it. “He’s pulling in now.”
“Thank you.”
I turn the page on the album and look at more photos of my mom. My brothers and sister. None of my dad in this one, but he was gone a lot. More of my uncle in these than there are in the albums at home. I’m just closing the album when I hear him having an exchange with the soldier I left standing outside the study door. A moment later, the door opens, and my uncle stands framed in the light of the hallway.