Chapter 1 — The Stroller at the Pool
Yvette pushed the stroller slowly along the stone path beside the hotel pool.
Her baby daughter, Amelie, was sleeping beneath the pale canopy.
Dorian had gone inside to collect their room key.
The afternoon was warm.
The pool area was quiet.
Yvette stopped beside a shaded table and reached into the stroller basket for Amelie’s bottle.
She turned away for only a second.
Then heard wheels moving behind her.
Yvette spun around.
The stroller was rolling.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
The stone path sloped slightly toward the pool.
“Amelie!”
Yvette lunged forward.
But an elderly man was already closer.
He grabbed the stroller handle with both hands.
The wheels stopped less than two feet from the pool’s edge.
Yvette rushed toward them.
She immediately pulled the stroller back.
Then stepped between the man and her daughter.
“What are you doing near my baby?”
The elderly man raised both hands.
“Stopping the stroller.”
Yvette’s heart was racing too fast to process the answer.
“Why were you touching her?”
“I wasn’t touching her.”
“I grabbed the handle.”
“It was rolling toward the water.”
At that moment Dorian came running from the hotel entrance.
“Yvette?”
He saw the stranger.
Then Yvette’s terrified expression.
He stepped between them.
“What’s happening?”
Yvette pointed toward the man.
“He was beside Amelie.”
The elderly man spoke calmly.
“Her stroller rolled toward the pool.”
“I stopped it.”
Dorian looked toward the wheels.
Then toward the slight slope in the pavement.
Yvette checked the stroller brake.
It had not fully engaged.
Her anger shifted into embarrassment and fear.
“I thought I locked it.”
Dorian put a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay.”
“She’s okay.”
Yvette looked toward the elderly man.
“You really just stopped it?”
“Yes.”
Then he looked into the stroller.
His expression softened.
“She’s beautiful.”
Something about the way he said it made Yvette uncomfortable again.
Too familiar.
Almost emotional.
“Do we know you?” Dorian asked.
The man looked toward Yvette.
For several seconds he said nothing.
“No.”
Then:
“Not exactly.”
Yvette frowned.
That was when she noticed his right hand.
A large silver ring.
Heavy.
Old-fashioned.
Set with a dark oval stone.
Yvette stopped breathing for a moment.
She had seen that ring before.
Not on a person.
In a photograph.
A photograph her mother had kept sealed inside an old cream envelope for years.
Yvette stared at the man’s hand.
Then his face.
“What’s your name?”
The man hesitated.
“Conrad.”
Yvette’s stomach tightened.
She immediately reached into the leather tote hanging from the stroller.
She had brought the old envelope with her on the trip because she planned to sort several family photographs while visiting her mother’s hometown.
Her hands shook as she opened it.
Inside was the black-and-white photograph.
Her mother, Celia, sitting in a hospital bed.
A newborn baby in her arms.
Yvette herself.
Standing beside the bed was a much younger man.
And on his right hand…
the exact same silver ring.
Yvette looked from the photograph…
to Conrad’s hand…
then back to his face.
“Were you there when I was born?”
Conrad’s expression changed instantly.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then his eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
Dorian looked between them.
“Who are you?”
Conrad looked directly at Yvette.
And his next answer changed everything she believed about her mother’s family.