Margot touched a finger to his chin, making him look up and realize those dark eyes had been on him, a smile hovering on the corners of her mouth. “What are you most proud of, in how all this played out? What are you most grateful for?”

He knew what she was doing. The same thing he’d done with her, that first day in the corridor outside Hall’s office. Asking the question that would get at the heart rather than the circumstances. The question that would reveal who a person was far more than their name ever would.

And the answer here was easy. “You and Dot—to both.” He’d always thought, he supposed, that his role was to be the one in the action. Saving them when necessary. Rushing in, defending, dodging the bullets. But they’d done a rather fine job of seeing to things themselves.

At her name, his sister stood from the chair she’d taken in the landlord’s office—where their grandfather had apparently set up his base of operations. She moved to the doorway, where Abuelo stood.

He received her with a proud smile and an arm around her shoulders. “Ah, yes. Our girl is a brave one. I am proud of you, Dorothea.”

She offered him a tired smile, but she shook her head. “I still don’t understand what you’re doing here, Abuelo. In England. Why didn’t you just send word of what you’d found? You’ve never come before, even when Mama died.”

Abuelo lifted his dark brows, as if the answer should have been obvious. “Because my coming would have done nothing then. Changed nothing. She was gone already, God rest her soul, and you scarcely knew me then, for my presence to bring any comfort. You had your father, your friends. But now, this—my coming could change everything. Why would I not do it, when it meant life for my grandchildren?”

“Well then.” Looking exhausted and disheveled, but steady, Dot offered another weary smile. “Perhaps you’ll stay long enough to come to my wedding.” Then the smile wobbled and she straightened, shifting a bit until she could look at Margot. “I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. I wasn’t—”

“It’s forgiven, Dot. Forgotten.” Margot held out a hand, and his sister sidled past Abuelo so she could take it in her own. “I’m happy you’re getting married. I just didn’t want you to do it out of fear.”

“I know. But I’m not. Perhaps yesterday I was, but . . . but I’m not. Though it must be asked . . .” Dot looked from Margot to Drake and back again. “If you could argue that I should wait a bit because it wouldn’t change my love, isn’t the opposite true too? How long do you really have to wait when you know God put you together for a reason?”