“It was inexcusable of me to talk about your father the way I did,” she said. “Clearly, I haven’t made my peace with the past, and it’s impacted my judgment. And my treatment of you, I’m afraid.”

Gemma looked at her. “I appreciate that, but I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. The more Elodie spoke of her father, the more three-dimensional their relationship seemed. It made the crack in her memory of her parents wider.

“I understand. But, as a token of my apology—and of good faith moving forward—I want to give you something. I tried to give this to Celeste but she didn’t want it. And I realize now it rightfully belongs with you.”

She passed her a pink diamond eternity band. The gems caught the sunlight and tossed it back to the sky. It was a perfect, pale rose hue, so sparkly it seemed lit from within. Her breath caught in her throat.

“It’s the only thing I have left of the Electric Rose. I’m sorry I don’t have your mother’s complete stone. But I hope this is some small consolation.”

Hands trembling, Gemma slipped it on her left ring finger. She was instantly transported to her childhood self, feeling her mother’s one-of-a-kind diamond wobble on her small hand. Never wanting to take it off.

And she didn’t want to take it off now. But she had to.

“I do want to talk to you about this ring. But not for me—for Celeste.”

Elodie shook her head. “She doesn’t want it. My sister, she’s consumed with this idea of a curse and who knows what. I’d try to talk some sense into her but she’s too angry with me. And now she’s gone and done something stupid.”

“Jack,” Gemma said. Elodie nodded, and she could see Elodie was genuinely concerned. “I know. That’s why I’m here. We’re going to fix it.”

“How?” Elodie looked skeptical.

Gemma slipped off the ring, holding it tight. She literally had, in the palm of her hand, the one thing she had wanted for so long—or, at least, the closest she would get to it. She had two choices: She could keep it, a piece of her past forever close to her. Or she could let it go for someone else’s future.

It was low tide at Herring Cove. The beach was the most crowded it had been all summer even as it neared dinnertime, when the visitors usually thinned out except for the die-hards waiting for the sunset. Today, no one seemed in any hurry to leave. Dogs scampered into the waves, couples cuddled on blankets, beautiful young men drank up the last rays of sun to burnish their tans.