Sigfrid is born in the early hours of June 2, 1945, one month after the surrender of the German forces. He has Fred’s eyes—golden-brown, and in them I see Fred’s wisdom.

And I hold in my arms hope. Love. Joy.

As I tend my vines, pray for this land, I sometimes hear Fred’s voice, low and deep and in my bones, or on the hush of the wind. The Lord is near to those who call on him. He fulfills the desires of those who fear him.

Always and Forever.

RJ closed her eyes, even as she closed the book. Pulled it to her chest even as she worried the rings on her finger and stared out to the cliffs of Lauchtenland. Rain pattered the roof, its breath thick upon the air but here, under the roof of the deck of the Royal Lodge, sitting on an Adirondack chair, she was dry.

If not cold.

But she’d been cold for the better part of a week as the Lauchtenland Rescue searched for York’s body.

The man on the rocks, the one she’d seen engulfed by the waves belonged to Sergio Komarov, former member of the Bratva, currently known under a dozen aliases, wanted by Interpol for more murders than she wanted to know.

And definitely a member of the Orphans.

She’d asked Gunner to sit on that information for a while…

Because she had a plan.

“Hey, we’re getting ready to go. Are you packed?” Ziggy came out of the door of the lodge.

RJ handed her the book. “Thank you.”

Ziggy took it. “So?”

“It’s amazing.”

“Sad.”

“But also real. It’s the way of life, really. And I suppose the only way to get through this—to remember that God is near to us.”

Ziggy clutched the book to herself. “Yes.” She drew in a breath, met RJ’s gaze. “I lost someone I loved terribly also, and it’s not the same—we weren’t married—but it still gutted me.”

RJ stared at her, nonplussed. Ziggy was always so buttoned up, so…capable. RJ couldn’t imagine her gutted.

“It does get easier.”

“York’s not dead.” RJ got up. “I’ve been down this road with him. He’s not dead. And I’m not going anywhere quite yet.”

“RJ —”

She stopped in front of Ziggy, especially when Roy came out of the door. Held up her hand. “I know it sounds crazy, but…right before York…faked his death, he told me about how to figure out who posted the bounty.” She waited until Roy joined Ziggy. “We confirm the kill—and I know we can get Coco to make that happen. Witnesses of him going over the cliff, and shots of the waiter we pulled out of the water—she can manipulate it, put York’s face on it —”

“RJ —”