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"No more ice queen?" I tease.

"Never with you."

We sit there watching the city lights, curled up against each other. The ring on my finger feels right, like it was always meant to find its way to this moment.

She turns serious. "Are you okay wearing it? Given its history?"

"More than okay." I look at the ring, thinking of Elena and Vittorio. "It's like Nonna said—sometimes the greatest love stories aren't just about two people. They're about families. About healing. Love coming full circle."

Epilogue

Josie

"Pass the garlic bread,tesoro."Nonna motions to me from across the crowded table. Sunday dinner has gotten considerably louder since our families started sharing it. My mom sits next to Nonna while Mario and Dad argue good-naturedly about wine.

Florence squeezes my knee under the table before reaching for the bread basket. "Tell them about the coin," she murmurs.

I clear my throat. "We have some news."

The table gradually quiets, though Tilly keeps trying to steal food from Renna's plate.

"The government agreed to terms about the 1933 Double Eagle," I announce. "They're going to auction it and split the proceeds with the foundation."

"How much?" Joe asks, obviously trying to contain his excitement. As our authenticity expert, he's been following the coin case closely.

"Early estimates suggest between twenty and twenty-five million." I can't help grinning at his stunned expression. "Which means ten to twelve million more for helping families recover their lost treasures."

"Speaking of treasures," Catalina pipes up, "when are you two finally setting a date?"

Florence groans. "We've been engaged for three weeks, Cat. Let us enjoy it."

"You've been enjoying it for six months already," Tilly points out. "The fake engagement counts."

"No, it doesn't," Florence and I say in unison, making everyone laugh.

"The foundation dedication is next month," Mom says thoughtfully. "You could do it then—"

"Absolutely not." Florence shakes her head firmly. "Our wedding will not be a publicity event for the foundation."

We talked about it last night. We're thinking spring, something small and private. Just family and close friends. But we're keeping that to ourselves for now.

"How's the foundation coming along?" Dad asks, deftly changing the subject.

"We've already helped three families recover artwork," I tell him. "And we're working with museums in France and Italy to digitize their records of lost artifacts."

"The university partnership is official, too," Florence adds. "They're creating a research center focused on art repatriation and cultural preservation."

"And they're naming it after Elena," I say softly.

Nonna's hand flies to the chain on her neck. "After me?"

"The Elena Vitale Center for Cultural Restoration," Florence confirms. "It seemed fitting."

Nonna mutters something in Italian that makes Lucia gasp and Catalina snicker.

"What did she say?" I whisper to Florence.

"That we're all impossible, and she's too old for such nonsense." Florence's eyes sparkle. "But she's pleased."