She reached inside the stylish designer jacket that matched her lavender gown and produced a thick cream envelope, her fingers shaking as she stared at it.

‘What’s that?’ I asked when she made no move to speak.

Within her gaze came a spark of determination I hadn’t seen in years. My heart leapt into my throat as she caught my hand in hers and squeezed it tight.

‘My sweet Callie, I know I’ve brought misery to your life with my actions—’

‘No, Mama, you haven’t. I promise,’ I countered firmly.

She stared at me. ‘I’m not sure whether to be proud or to admonish you for being such a good liar. But I know what I’ve done. My selfishness has locked you in this prison with me when you should be free to pursue what young girls your age ought to be doing.’ Her fingers tightened on mine. ‘I want you to make me a promise,’ she pleaded, her voice husky with unshed tears.

I nodded because...what else could I do? ‘Anything you want, Mama.’

She held out the envelope. ‘Take this. Hide it in the safest place you can.’

I took it, frowning at the old-fashioned cursive lettering spelling out my name. ‘What’s this?’

‘It’s from your grandmother.’

‘Yiayia Helena?’ A tide of sorrow momentarily washed over me, my heart still missing the grandmother I’d lost a year ago.

My mother nodded. ‘She said I’d know when you needed it. And even if I’m wrong...’

She paused, a faraway look in her eyes hinting that she was indulging in all those might-have-beens that sparked my own desperate imagination. When she refocused, her gaze moved dully over my wedding dress.

‘Even if this...alliance turns out to be tolerable, it’ll help to know you were loved by your grandmother. That should you need her she’ll be there for you the way I wasn’t.’

I held on tighter to her hand. ‘I know you love me, Mama.’

She shook her head, tears brimming her eyes. ‘Not the way a mother should love her child, without selfish intentions that end up harming her. I took the wrong turn with you. I left you alone with your father when I should have taken you with me. Maybe if I had—’ She stopped, took a deep breath and dabbed at her tears before braving my worried stare again. ‘All I ask is that you find a way to forgive me one day.’

‘Mama—’ I stopped when she gave a wrenching sob.

Her gaze dropped to the envelope in my hand. ‘Hang on to that, Callie. And don’t hesitate to use it when you need it. Promise me,’ she insisted fervently.’

‘I... I promise.’

She sniffed, nodded, then abruptly turned the wheelchair and manoeuvred herself out of my bedroom.

Before I could process our conversation I was again surrounded by mindless chatter, unable to breathe or think. The only solid thing in my world became the envelope I clutched tightly in my hand. And when I found that within the endless folds of tulle the designer had fashioned a pocket, I nearly cried with relief as I slipped the envelope into it.