Chapter 1 — “Leave Her Bag Alone”
Little Mireille gripped the handle of her purple suitcase with both hands.
She had packed it herself that morning.
Two dresses.
Her pajamas.
Three books.
A stuffed rabbit.
And the small wooden music box that had once belonged to her father.
She was standing in the marble entrance hall of Bellgrave Mansion when Garrick saw her.
His expression changed immediately.
“Where are you going?”
Mireille looked toward the staircase.
“Mommy said we’re leaving.”
Garrick stared.
“Leaving?”
He walked toward her.
“Give me that.”
Mireille pulled the suitcase closer.
“No.”
“Mireille.”
“It’s mine.”
Garrick reached down.
Before the little girl could move, he pulled the suitcase handle from her hands.
Mireille panicked.
“No!”
She grabbed for it.
“Give it back!”
Garrick moved the suitcase behind him.
“You’re not leaving this house until your mother explains exactly what she thinks she’s doing.”
Mireille’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
“Mommy!”
Footsteps came from the adjoining room.
Therese rushed into the entrance hall.
The moment she saw Garrick holding the suitcase, her face hardened.
She crossed the room quickly.
Then pulled Mireille into her arms.
“Leave her bag alone.”
Garrick stared at her.
“You were going to walk out without speaking to me?”
“We spoke yesterday.”
“You announced a decision.”
“That is not the same as discussing one.”
Therese kept one arm around Mireille.
“The decision is mine.”
Garrick pointed toward the front door.
“You are taking my granddaughter out of the home her father intended her to grow up in.”
Therese’s eyes narrowed.
“That sentence again.”
“Because it is true.”
“Lucien wanted Mireille here.”
Mireille buried her face against Therese’s shoulder.
The argument grew louder.
“Daddy wanted me here?” she whispered.
Therese immediately stopped.
She looked down at her daughter.
“Sweetheart, go sit with Mrs. Harlow for a minute.”
Mireille shook her head.
“No.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I promise.”
Garrick still held the suitcase.
Mireille looked toward it anxiously.
Therese noticed.
“Put the suitcase down.”
Garrick did not move.
“Not until you tell me where you’re taking her.”
Therese stared at him.
Then something inside her changed.
The anger disappeared.
Not because she had given in.
Because she had apparently made a decision.
She reached into her silver handbag.
Garrick watched.
Therese removed a sealed cream envelope.
Old.
Slightly yellowed at the edges.
On the front were four handwritten words:
FOR FATHER — IF NEEDED.
Garrick froze.
He knew the handwriting.
His late son Lucien’s.
Therese placed the envelope on the marble counter.
Then slid it toward him.
“Read it.”
Garrick stared at her.
“Where did you get this?”
“Lucien gave it to me.”
Garrick’s face changed.
“When?”
“Three weeks before he died.”
For several seconds nobody moved.
Then Garrick slowly opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
He read the first line.
His anger disappeared immediately.
Father, if Therese has finally given you this letter, then you are probably trying to make a decision about Mireille that does not belong to you.
Garrick’s hands began to shake.
And Therese knew he had finally reached the words Lucien had been afraid he might someday need to say from beyond the grave.