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23

Josie

Meine liebeJosephine,

I hope news of my death doesn't affect you greatly, outside the obvious inheritance. I trust from watching you over the years that you can handle what's to come.

Your mother did right by you when she cut me out of your life. Letting her cut ties with me, no matter how much it hurt me to lose you, was the right move to protect you. I'm a flawed man,meine Liebe,and your mother knows it well.

I should regret the things I've done, but I don't have the heart. Besides losing you to my unrepentant soul, I only truly regret one thing in the waning years of my century on this wretched earth. The gold ring you find with this letter belonged to a young woman near Naples during the War. It was a curse, both for the original owner and for me.

Your grandmother Greta found it in my coat pocket the night she died. She wanted to know who it belonged to, and why I was carrying her wedding ring on the 50th anniversary. I never lovedyour grandmother. I wanted to track this woman down, if she was still alive, and return her ring to her.

Of all the crimes I've committed in my cumbersome life, for this one alone I feel remorse. One winter evening in December 1943, I ransacked a home near Naples.

I ripped the ring from her finger. I'll never forget her anguished cry as she collapsed into a heap of despair, her bare hand resting on her swollen belly.

Her cries haunt me to this day.

I tried to find her after the war. She was—by then—an orphan and a young widow. I learned that she fled to the land of opportunity in desperate search of escape from the horror of her memories. I never stopped looking for her.

I never stopped watching you, either. From the time you were little, I've had eyes on you. I have a bookshelf with all your favorite books. Behind the Picasso on the second floor is a secret library. It holds all your favorites throughout the years, going back to your childhood. Maybe you'll find some solace in revisiting some of them.

If you have trouble with the judgment against the penthouse, look in the secret library for the book you soothed yourself with when your best friend fell in love with someone else the way you could never have her. There, you will find answers.

I hope you find happiness,meine Leibe,with a woman who will love you the way you deserve. The idea of happiness has eluded our clan since the day I ripped it from that young Italian girl eighty years ago. I hope you will break that curse.

Your reprehensible Opa

24

Florence

I look up from my desk with a sigh. "What is it, Gwen?"

"Ma'am." She closes the door behind her and straightens her shoulders.

"You have my attention, Gwendolyn." I cross my arms over my chest. "Whatever it is, speak already."

She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "You need to quit acting like a lovesick fool. Whatever problems you have with yourfiancéeneed to stay out of the office."

"Excuse me?" I say drily, raising an eyebrow—more in surprise than disagreement.

She releases an exasperated sigh. "Look. I don't care about your love life. Whatever spat you and your—" Clearing her throat, she rolls her eyes. "Whatever is happening between you and this woman is compromising your judgment and your behavior. It needs to stop. Marin says—"

I stand up. "Marin says what?" I ask dangerously.

She takes a step toward me, but her tone softens. "That Josie's been giving you the runaround all week. I'm not here to pick a fight with you, Florence."

"What then?" I step toward her.

"What's the first line in my job description?" she asks, surprising me.

"To assist and support me in any way necessary for me to do my job." I don't understand.

"Yes," she nods. "In order for you to do your job to your standards," her lip curls up, "you need to get your head out of your ass. I don't say that to be unfeeling or unempathetic. I say that because you have a job to do, and you aren't seeing clearly."

I sigh in resignation. She's not wrong. "What exactly do you propose I do about it?"