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"I want to set up a foundation," Josie says, "with money from the assets. I don't want any of it. I'm going to sell everything and use the money to fund research into other families' lost treasures—to help more people recover their heritage."

"Perfetto,"Catalina declares. "Turn something ugly into something beautiful."

As everyone starts gathering their things to leave, Mom pulls Josie into a fierce hug. "Thank you," she whispers."Grazie mille,for giving her back these pieces of her heart."

After everyone's gone, I glance at Josie. "Are you okay?"

She nods, her eyes distant. "I keep thinking about how much pain he caused—not just your family, but how many others?"

I cup her cheek. "You're nothing like him," I repeat my mother's words. "You're bringing together what he tore apart."

"We are," she corrects me, bringing my hand to her lips. "Together."

I lean into her, brushing my lips against hers. When we break apart, she leans her forehead against mine.

"Stay tonight?" I whisper.

"Always," she promises.

I send up a silent prayer that dinner goes well.

36

Josie

I stare at the folder in my lap. All these documents about mom's half-sister… They feel heavy in my hands. Across from me, Dad watches patiently.

"I don't know how to tell her," I finally say.

He reaches across the café table and squeezes my hand. "Start at the beginning,mieloji.What did you find?"

I show him the first letter, dated 1971. "It's from someone named Maria to Karl. She worked as a maid for the Vanderveens." My hands shake as I read."Our daughter Donna deserves better than to be your dirty little secret. Either acknowledge her properly or leave us alone."

Dad's eyebrows shoot up. "Donna? Your grandfather's housekeeper?"

"And Florence's." I let out a long breath. "She's been watching over me all this time."

"Has your mom ever mentioned her to you before?"

"No." I shake my head. "That's why I wanted to talk to you first. Have you ever heard anything about it? After how she reacted to everything with Karl and the inheritance…" I trail off, remembering her visceral response to learning he'd been in Delmont all along.

"Let me call her," Dad says gently. "We'll do this together."

Twenty minutes later, Mom walks into the coffee shop. Her eyes narrow when she sees the folder on the table. "What's he done now?"

"Sit down,Mutti."I haven't called her that since I was little. "Please."

She sinks into the chair next to Dad, who immediately takes her hand. I push the letter across the table.

"What's this?" she asks. Her tone suggests she already knows it's something that will hurt.

"Read it," I say softly.

Her hands tremble as she picks up the letter. I watch her face as she reads—the initial confusion, then shock. Then something deeper and more painful.

"There's more." I slide the letters between Karl and Maria, spanning nearly twenty years. "He maintained contact with them, helped them financially. But he respected Maria's wish to keep their relationship private."

Mom's voice is barely audible. "I have a sister?"