— “Andrew M. Walker,” she said, her voice steady and certain. — “CEO of Walker Logistics. Husband of the late Olivia Sharpe. On paper, childless. But life writes its own records, Andrew.”
A cold sweat broke out on Andrew’s neck. How did this stranger know his full name? Olivia’s maiden name wasn’t exactly public knowledge. This wasn’t a random guess or the ramblings of a confused mind.
— “Who are you?” Andrew stepped closer, looming over her. — “What do you want? Money? Just name the amount.”
The woman raised a hand, and the gesture had so much quiet authority that Andrew instinctively stepped back.
— “I don’t want your money. I took enough for a decent meal. But I’ll give you some advice: look for her, if that heart of yours hasn’t turned to stone yet. Look. Go to the assisted living facility on the west side of town. Ask for Zelda Miller. She was there. She remembers everything.”
— “Who is Zelda? What facility? What are you talking about?”
But the woman was already standing up, pulling her coat tight. For her age, she moved with surprising agility.
— “Go, Andrew. Before you run out of time. Thirty years is a long time, but you can’t silence the blood. It doesn’t lie.”
She walked away, her silhouette fading into the gray curtain of rain. Andrew started to follow, but Steve caught him by the arm.
— “Mr. Walker, you’re soaked through. We need to get you home. You can’t afford to get sick right now.”
Andrew allowed himself to be led into the car. He stared out the window, trying to spot the woman in the fog, but she had vanished. It felt like a hallucination, except for those words ringing in his ears: “What are you going to tell your daughter?”
The drive back to the estate was silent. Steve knew better than to ask questions. The Mercedes glided through the wet streets, past the suburban developments and strip malls—past a world that was moving on while his was falling apart.
The house was deafeningly quiet. The massive colonial they had spent fifteen years perfecting now felt like a museum. The marble, the art, the high ceilings—he’d built it all for her. It was her dream. And now…
