“What about Marlene?” I asked, looking back at the kitchen.

“She will come with us,” Damon said. “It is no longer safe for her here.”

Marlene stepped up beside me, her hands shaking as she pulled her wool shawl tight.

“I have lived here thirty years, Mr. Vale,” she said softly.

“And they know that,” Damon replied. “They will use you to get to Nora. Please.”

Marlene looked at me, then at Leo’s wide, dark eyes.

She nodded once, a quiet acceptance in her face.

***

Three weeks later, the icy wind of Lake Michigan battered the glass of the penthouse suite in Chicago.

The quiet, snow-covered pine trees of Copper Harbor felt like a lifetime away.

I stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror, staring at a woman I barely recognized.

The silk gown was the color of midnight blue, tailored to fit me with clinical precision.

“You look beautiful, Mommy,” Leo said from the bed.

He was wearing a small black tuxedo, his hair combed back just like Damon’s.

“Thank you, sweetie,” I said, kneeling to adjust his tiny bow tie.