. CHAPTER 4 — The Song from the Empty Nursery
When the last note faded, no one clapped. Applause would have been too small for what had happened.
Mara kept her hands on the keys as if leaving them might make the food disappear. She looked over her shoulder toward Nathaniel.
“Was it enough?” she asked.
The question struck him in the ribs.
Before he could answer, Vivian stepped forward. Her face had changed. The laughter was gone, replaced by something sharp and frightened hiding behind anger.
“Security,” she said. “Remove her now.”
Nathaniel turned toward her. “Why?”
“She is using your grief,” Vivian snapped. “Can’t you see that? Someone taught her that song. Someone sent her here to exploit you.”
Mara shrank on the bench. “Nobody sent me.”
“Then where did you learn it?” Nathaniel asked gently.
The girl’s fingers twisted in the torn fabric of her dress. “From my grandma Ruth. She said my mother used to sing it when I was tiny. But Grandma Ruth got sick, and the landlord put our things outside. She told me if I ever got lost, I should find the hotel with the golden ceiling because my real story started there.”
A murmur moved through the guests.
Vivian laughed once, too loudly. “Real story? That is exactly the kind of nonsense scammers use.”
Nathaniel stepped closer to the piano. “Mara, do you have anything from your mother?”
Mara nodded. From inside the neckline of her worn dress, she pulled out a small silver locket on a fraying string. It was scratched almost beyond beauty, but Nathaniel saw the tiny blue stone at its center and felt the ballroom tilt.
He had given that locket to Elise on their fifth anniversary.
His hand shook when he reached for it. “May I?”
Mara placed it in his palm.
Vivian moved fast. “Nathaniel, don’t.”
He opened the locket.
Inside was a miniature photograph, water-damaged but visible: Elise holding a baby wrapped in a pale blanket. On the back, in Elise’s handwriting, were three words.
For Grace, always.
Nathaniel’s knees nearly failed.
Mrs. Alden gasped. The older guests who remembered the tragedy began whispering Grace’s name.
May you like
Mara looked from face to face, confused. “Who is Grace?”
Nathaniel could not answer. He was looking at her eyes now. Elise’s eyes. The same gray-blue that had haunted every dream he tried to survive.
