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"If your grandmother don't know you're here and neither does your parents, who sent you? Ormand?"

"Nobody sent me. Why would my daddy send me?" I asked quickly.

"What do you want?" she asked again, this time more sharply. "I told you I'm sick. I can't sit up and talk long."

"I want to know what really happened, Mrs. Dalton. I spoke to Mrs. Boston—"

"Mary?" She smiled. "How is Mary doing these days?"

"She's fine, but when I asked her about what happened, she didn't tell me you were visiting with her when I was abducted, and she didn't want to talk about it."

"I was with her; she just forgot, that's all. There's nothing more to tell. You were asleep, comfortably. I left the nursery; Ormand took you and then he and Sally Jean run off. You know the rest."

I looked down, the tears building quickly.

"They ain't treating you so good since you been returned, is that it?" Mrs. Dalton asked perceptively. I shook my head and wiped away the tears that had escaped my eyes.

"My grandmother hates me; she's upset I was found," I said and looked up. "And she was the one who put up the money for the reward leading to my recovery. I don't understand. She wanted me found, but she was upset when I was, and it wasn't just because all this time has passed. There's something else. I feel it; I know it. But no one wants to tell me, or no one knows it all.

"Oh, Mrs. Dalton, please," I begged. "My daddy and momma just weren't bad people. Even you just said so. I can't understand them stealing a baby from someone, even if my momma had suffered a stillborn. No matter what I'm told, I can't learn to hate them, and I can't stand thinking about my daddy locked up in some prison.

"My little sister, Fern, and my brother, Jimmy, have been sent to live with strangers. Jimmy just ran away from a mean farmer and hid out in the hotel until Clara snitched on him. The police took him away last night. It was just terrible."

I took a deep breath and shook my head.

"It's like some curse was put on us, and for what? What did we do? We're no sinners," I added vehemently. That widened her eyes again. She brought her hands to the base of her throat and looked at me as if I were a ghost. Then she nodded slowly.

"He sent you," she muttered. "He sent you to me. This is my last chance at redemption. My last chance."

"Who sent me?"

"The Lord Almighty," she said. "All my good churchgoing days don't matter none. It ain't been enough to wash me clean." She leaned forward and grasped my hand firmly into hers. Her eyes were wide, wild. "That's why I'm in this wheelchair, child. It's my penance. I always knew it. This hard life is my punishment."

I sat absolutely still as she stared into my face. After a moment she nodded and released her grip on my hand. She sat back, took a deep breath and looked at me.

"All right," she said. "I'll tell you everything. You was meant to know and I was meant to tell you. Otherwise, He wouldn't have sent you to me."

"Your mother comes from a rich and distinguished old family in Virginia Beach," Mrs. Dalton began. "I remember your father and mother's wedding. Everybody does. It was one of the most gala affairs in Cutler's Cove, and everyone in society was invited, even people from Boston and New York. People thought it was the perfect marriage—two very attractive people from the best families. Why, people here went around comparing it to the marriage of Grace Kelly, the movie star, and that prince in Europe.

"Your father was like a prince here anyway, and there was a number of suitors after your mother's hand. But even back then I heard stories."

"What kind of stories?" I asked when she looked like she wouldn't continue.

"Stories about your grandmother being unhappy about the marriage, not thinking your mother was right for your father. Say what you want about your grandmother, she's a powerful woman with eyes like a hawk. She sees things other people close their eyes to, and she goes and does what has to be done.

"Yes, she's a distinguished lady who wouldn't do anything to embarrass the family. Your grandfather liked your mother. Any man would have. I don't know if she's still as beautiful as she was, but she was like some precious little doll, her features tiny but perfect, and when she batted her eyelashes . . . men would turn into little boys. I seen that firsthand," Mrs. Dalton added, lifting her eyes to me and raising her eyebrows.

"So your grandmother kept her opposition quiet, I guess. I don't know all that went on behind closed doors, mind you, although some of the older staff, people who had been with the Cutlers a long time, people like Mary Boston, had a good idea what was going on and said there was a struggle.

"Not that Mary is the type who goes around gossiping, mind you. She don't. I was always close with Mary, so she told me what she knew. I was already a nurse and had done some special duty at the hotel, taking care of guests who got sick occasionally, and then, as I told you, taking care of Mr. Cutler Senior when he got sick.

"It wasn't no big secret then how your grandmother felt about your mother. She thought she was too flighty and self-centered to be a good hotel man's wife, but your father was head over heels. There was nothing he wanted more.

"Anyway, they got married, and for a while it seemed your mother might make a good hotel man's wife. She behaved, did what your grandmother wanted, learned how to be nice to the guests and be a host . . . She really enjoyed getting all dressed up and wearing all her expensive jewelry so she could be the Princess of Cutler's Cove, and in those days, as it still is, Cutler's Cove was a very special hotel catering to the richest, most distinguished families from up and down the East Coast . . . even Europe!"

"What happened to change things?" I asked, unable to contain my impatience. I knew all about the hotel and how famous it had become. I wanted her to get to the parts I didn't know.