“It is a risk, Caroline,” I said. “If he realizes what you are doing, he will be furious.”

“He won’t realize,” she said. “Because I am going to make him believe I want him here.”

She stood up, her movement graceful and deliberate.

“I will call him back tonight,” she said. “I will tell him we are ready to talk.”

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, my heart aching for the childhood she had been forced to leave behind so early.

“I have never been surer of anything, Grandma,” she said.

She walked out of the office, her footsteps light on the pine floorboards.

A few minutes later, I heard her quiet, polite voice speaking from the hallway telephone.

She sounded like a grateful daughter, eager to please, her tone soft and welcoming.

It sent a chill down my spine, realizing how easily she could mask her thoughts when she needed to.

I sat alone in the office, staring at Rebecca’s letter, the ink slightly blurred where my thumb had pressed against it.