Tears began to well up in the old woman’s eyes. “I have something to show you, Victoria—something I made just for you—something I know you’ll want to see.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“It’s at the library—right across the street there. I wonder, could you come with me and see it?”

Victoria glanced at her watch.

“I promise, it will only take a moment. Please? It would mean so much to me—and to you too.”

Victoria smiled. “I think we can spare just a moment for Endor’s finest citizen, can’t we, Chris? All right, Agnes—lead the way.”

They crossed the street to the library. Agnes unlocked the main door and Riddick went in first while Victoria and Agnes waited outside. He stepped out a few seconds later and said, “It checks out—you can go in.” Agnes allowed Victoria to enter first—but when Riddick tried to follow she held up a hand and stopped him. “If you don’t mind, what I have to say to Victoria is personal.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am—that isn’t allowed.”

“It’s all right, Chris,” Victoria said. “Wait outside.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mrs. Braden. It isn’t procedure.”

“We’re making an exception for Agnes. I’ll be right back.”

They disappeared into the building and left Riddick standing there, staring angrily at the closed door.

Agnes led Victoria into a small room just off the lobby. Victoria looked at the walls; they were covered with photographs and magazine covers and newspaper clippings of her.

“Well—I must say I’m flattered.” She moved quickly around the room, pausing to look at a few of the photographs. “This is quite a collection, Agnes. You put a lot of time and effort into this. You’re right— this is very special to me.” She glanced at her watch.

“Oh, this isn’t what I wanted to show you.” Agnes took a key from around her neck and unlocked a lower drawer, then took out a large scrapbook with a brown leather cover; she set it on the table in the middle of the room and opened it to the first page. “This is what I want you to see.”

Victoria looked. The page was filled with faded black-and-white Polaroids of a beautiful baby girl. “What a lovely child. Is this your granddaughter?”

“That’s my baby girl.”

“She’s beautiful. Where is she now?”

Agnes smiled up at her. “She’s right here, Victoria.”

Victoria blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t expect you to remember—you were only six months old at the time.”

She stared at the photographs. “Are you saying that’s me?”

“I don’t expect you to remember me at all—a child can’t remember its mother after only six months.”

“I think there’s been a mistake,” Victoria said. “I left Endor when I was just a baby.”