Page 30 of The Missing Pages

ADA’S LONG TAPERED FINGERS HELD THE MINIATURE, RARE sixteenth-century edition carefully. The book was so small it could have fit cupped inside an entire hand.

“Mr. Widener,” her voice lilted as she said my name.

“Hello, again, Miss Lippoldt.”

“Oh yes, I almost forgot, the two of you met in New York last month!” Bernard Alfred cut in.

“So, Harry, you’re already acquainted with our lovely Ada!

” he remarked. “As beautiful as she is smart! It will go down in the history books that hiring her was one of my sister Charlotte’s wisest business decisions. ”

“You sing my praises far too generously,” Ada said as she placed the Bacon down on the table. “I know you’ve been eager to see this one, Mr. Widener.” She smiled. It felt like we had a secret between us.

“Indeed, I have.”

The three of us peered down at the tiny brown book.

It was a marvel to behold. The cover was in near-perfect condition, despite it being exactly three hundred years old.

The leather was a deep burnished shade. Bernard Alfred pulled it closer, then took his forefinger and opened it to the title page.

“How can something be printed so small and yet with such perfection?” I asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“We haven’t either. Isn’t that right, Ada?”

“Yes, that’s certainly true,” she said softly.

I wished Bernard Alfred would leave us alone to turn the book page by page. I wanted our wrists to touch, our breath to merge, as we took in the sheer wonder of that book together.

I know to those who have not experienced love it may sound utterly ridiculous, but that afternoon I became convinced that her soul and mine had been cut from the same piece of heaven. When I stood next to Miss Ada Lippoldt, for the first time in my life, I felt completely whole.