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She notices more than I give her credit for.

I stand up abruptly, needing space. "I don't understand. If he knew we lived in Delmont, why didn't he return them? He said in his letter that he wanted to find her, right?"

"I don't think he knew." Her eyes are troubled. "I got the impression from the letter that he looked for her. Extensively." She purses her lips together, pulling up an image on her phone.The letter.

"He had to know who she was," I argue. "Her name is on the ring. He knew she came to the United States."

She zooms into the letter on her phone screen while I look over her shoulder. "Maybe he went back to the town after the war and asked after her. I don't think he knew her last name."

"It would have changed, anyway. She and Nonno Roberto got married before they left Italy. All their paperwork would've had her new name on it."

She glances up at me. "What happened to her parents?"

I shake my head. I don't know the whole story. "They both died during the war. Not that night, though."

She releases a long breath. "Thank God. I don't think I could live with myself if—"

I cover her lips with my index finger."Youdidn't do any of this." I shake my head, looking at the painting against the window. "This is insane. You know that, right?"

She closes her eyes as I turn away from her.I need space.

"If you want me to walk away," she says, "from the contract, from us, from all of it—I will. But I care about you, Florence. That part isn't pretend. Not anymore."

Something in her voice makes me turn around. She looks devastated.

"The ring," I say finally. "It was her last connection to him—to Vittorio. She never even got to bury him." My voice cracks. "She couldn't even keep his ring."

Josie takes a tentative step toward me. "I want you to give it back to her. I want to make this one small thing right."

I close my eyes, remembering how happy Nonna looks at dinner every Wednesday night, surrounded by her family—how she's managed to build a beautiful life despite everything that was taken from her. Will giving it back to her just bring back all the memories of the past? Or will it give her the closure she so desperately needs?

"I need time," I tell her. "I need to think about how this will affect her—how much she can handle."

34

Florence

"What's going on with you tonight?" I ask Marin as she sets a salad in front of me. She's been oddly quiet since I came home.

"Your shadow," she says. "Is she dealing with her grandfather's estate tonight?" She sets a fork next to my plate.

"She'snotmy shadow," I argue. Josie's been over a lot lately, but it's not all the time. "Don't deflect. What's going on with you?" I repeat.

She straightens, folding her hands behind her back. "Have you considered that I might be concerned with how quickly she's planted herself in your life?"

"Planted herself?" I put the fork down. "You make it sound like she's rooted herself here."

"She's certainly attached herself firmly enough."

I frown."Sit down, Marin."When she hesitates, I soften my tone. "Please? We need to talk about this."

She sinks into the chair across from me. "I apologize if I overstepped." There's a ghost of ama'amfollowing the flat apology.

"You did, but that's not—" I take a deep breath. "You've been against Josie since the beginning. I want to understand why."

"I'm paid to look out for your interests."

"No," I say firmly, shaking my head. "You're paid to manage my household and my schedule. You look out for my interests because we're friends." I study her for a long moment. "So as my friend, tell me what's bothering you about her."