Her grandfather turned to look, then sucked in a quick breath.

“Your father,” he said. “That man looks like your father once did.”

Even in Gwen’s earliest memories, her father already looked old, worn down by grief and stress, but she’d seen pictures of him as a young man in his prime, and the resemblance to the man on the other side of the courtroom was startling. It was hard to guess the stranger’s age, but he looked about her age. William would be thirty-three if he had lived.

Her grandfather pulled on the knot of his tie. His hand shook, and his breathing was ragged.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I need air,” he said, and she stood to help him rise. Edwin did too. It was worrisome how heavily Frederick leaned on her as she guided him toward the center aisle. Others on the bench pulled aside to let them pass as she helped him out of the muggy room.

The vestibule outside the courtroom was empty. She guided Frederick to a bench.

“We’re probably imagining things,” she said. Her grandfather’s hand shook as he dragged out a handkerchief and blotted his face.

“Probably,” he replied after a long pause. “It’s been a stressful day, and this hearing has stirred up bad memories. That man is surely no one. He looks like an ordinary laborer, not a Blackstone.”

But he did look like a Blackstone. Her parents had more than a dozen photographs of Willy, and she’d seen them all. He was a sturdy little boy, with an olive complexion and unusually pale eyes. It was impossible to guess what he would have looked like had he grown up.

“I didn’t see him,” Edwin said. “Describe him.”

“He looks like Theodore,” Frederick groused. “All except the rude stare. My son was a kind and gentle man, nothing like that ruffian.”

A roar of laughter rose from the courtroom, followed by a banging of the gavel. The judge demanded order, then said something else so low she couldn’t hear.

“Objection!” the Blackstone attorney shouted, but the judge overruled the objection and continued speaking.

“It doesn’t sound like things are going well,” Edwin said.

Gwen nodded and hurried to the courtroom doors, cocking her ear to listen. The judge said the Blackstones hadn’t proven their case and there was no point in continuing the discussion about damages without a finding of libel.

A cheer rose from the crowd, complete with hooting, stomping, and jeering. The judge banged his gavel for order, but it didn’t stop the commotion. Footsteps came pounding toward the door, and she backed away and returned to her grandfather.

“It sounds like we lost,” she said. “Stay here. I’m going to find that man before he leaves.”