If she listened close enough, would she be able to hear Maggie’s unmistakable cackle echoing down the halls? How did a person simply disappear from the earth, from her life? She hadn’t felt this way since Cody’s dad passed away, and she’d nearly forgotten what it was like. It was different from when Cody had vanished—she’d known he was out there somewhere. She could make up stories about where he was and what he was doing, always careful to imagine him happy and full of life. She hadn’t been able to do that with Daniel Boggs. And she couldn’t do it with Maggie.

“Louisa?”

She could tell by Mr. Holbrook’s tone that she’d missed a question. “I’m sorry—what?”

“I asked if Maggie had discussed any of this with you?”

Louisa folded her hands in her lap, feeling embarrassed by her inability to concentrate. “No, sir,” she said. “She never did.”

“Well, then, we are in for a surprise.”

Louisa’s frown matched Cody’s as they waited for the man to continue. Before that could happen, he had to finish chuckling, sort through a stack of papers, and apparently sit back on the couch just so. Finally he looked up. “Are we ready?”

“Ready,” Louisa said. Hurry up.

It was torture, this sitting in the same room with Cody, this wishing his arm was around her, this knowing that they’d come so close to happiness, only to have it ripped away—again—by their cruel, cruel past.

“Turns out our girl was quite wealthy.”

She didn’t bother to correct him in his use of the phrase “our girl,” though she was absolutely certain Maggie would have.

“No, she wasn’t.” Louisa knew from sorting through some of her bank statements that Maggie was anything but poor—but she wouldn’t say the old woman was wealthy.

“Oh, but she was.” He chuckled again. “I’m not sure even she knew how wealthy. She never really cared much for the details.”

“All she had in the world was this house, Mr. Holbrook. She inherited it, but she wasn’t rich. She prided herself on it.” Louisa straightened.

He winked at her. Odd. “Many years ago, Maggie invested a good sum of money—she’s lived off of the money she made on that investment for years now.”

“Her allowance,” Louisa said.

“I’m sorry?”

“She called it her allowance. She never told me where it came from, only that each month, money was deposited in her account. She gave a lot of it away.”

“Well, that was just the tip of the iceberg. She had another account.” He handed over a sheet of paper with a bunch of numbers on it, and as Louisa scanned to the bottom, she saw TK/dab typed out, just like in the statements she and Cody had found.

“You said there was one investment?” Cody asked.