Barefoot.
Hair messy from sleeping.
Dragging the blanket behind her.
“Mommy?”
Maria hurried over.
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Sofia rubbed her eyes.
“Are the grown-ups still talking about secrets?”
None of us knew how to answer.
Sofia looked around the room.
Then she noticed the old photograph.
Her little face brightened.
“Daddy.”
Maria froze.
Sofia walked closer and pointed toward Gabriel.
“That’s Daddy when he was skinny.”
A surprised laugh escaped Maria.
Even I smiled.
Then Sofia pointed toward my younger face.
“And Mr. Daniel.”
“Yes,” Maria said. “That’s Daniel.”
Sofia tilted her head.
Then she pointed toward the woman standing beside Vincent.
“And Grandma Elena.”
Maria’s smile disappeared.
Arthur gripped the edge of the desk.
I looked at Sofia.
“What did you say?”
She blinked at me.
“Grandma Elena.”
Maria crouched in front of her.
“Sofia, sweetheart, that’s not Grandma.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, honey.”
Sofia frowned, offended in that deeply serious way only a four-year-old could manage.
“Daddy said.”
Arthur whispered, “Dear God.”
I turned toward him.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Arthur.”
“I swear I didn’t.”
Maria gently held Sofia by the shoulders.
“When did Daddy show you this woman?”
Sofia thought carefully.
“In the blue book.”
“What blue book?”
“Daddy’s book.”
Maria looked at me.
“I’ve never seen any blue book.”
Sofia continued cheerfully.
“With the bird.”
“What bird?” I asked.
She flapped her hands.
“The shiny bird.”
Arthur suddenly stood.
His chair fell backward.
I had never seen him move that quickly.
“Arthur?”
He stared at Sofia.
“What kind of bird?”
Sofia smiled.
“A gold one.”
Arthur whispered a word I hadn’t heard since childhood.
“Phoenix.”
I looked at him.
He crossed toward the bookshelf and stopped beside an old carved wooden box that had belonged to my mother.
A phoenix had been carved into its lid.
I’d seen it countless times.
Never opened it.
My father had always told me it held old family papers and nothing important.
Arthur reached toward it.
I caught his wrist.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes met mine.
“Your mother kept a journal.”
My pulse quickened.
“You knew about that too?”
“I believed Thomas destroyed it.”
Maria stepped closer.
Arthur pointed toward the phoenix.
“Evelyn used that symbol whenever she wanted to mark something private. If Gabriel owned a blue book with the same symbol…”
“He had her journal?”
“No.”
Arthur slowly shook his head.
