“Of course. I was anxious to come. The apartment felt oddly empty without the paintings.” And without you, she added silently. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she had missed him. His steady presence as they had peeled back inexplicable layers of Grandmère’s life, including the extraordinary evidence that linked their two families, had been a comfort she hadn’t known she’d needed.

“I have all your grandmother’s paintings catalogued and properly stored here on-site. We can go over the paperwork for each, and I’ll walk you through exactly what I’ll be looking for. I’ll get started on any restoration work as soon as possible.”

Lia nodded.

“But before we do anything with the paintings, I wanted you to see this.” He came around the side of the desk and handed her a small frame that contained a black-and-white photo. “Recognize her?”

A blond supermodel in a long-sleeved blouse above a pleated skirt stared back at Lia. “Your great-aunt.”

“Yes. This photo was at my parents’ London home. I borrowed it to show you.”

Lia wandered over to the table and put the framed photo on the surface. She set her backpack beside it, unzipped it, and withdrew a heavy file. The photos and identification papers they had found in Lia’s grandmother’s apartment had each been put into a protective sleeve and were carefully organized inside. She laid them out beside the framed photo. There was no doubt that the women in both were one and the same.

“Have you spoken to your grandfather about these?”

“Not yet.” Gabriel pulled out a chair for Lia and then took his own once she had been seated. “It seemed like a conversation best had in person and not over the phone. Because I did speak to my father about it. And he is adamant that Sophie Seymour died in Warsaw in 1939.”

“Hmm.”

“I was going to head up to Millbrook this weekend to talk to my grandfather. About what made him look for his sister after the war and what he might have found. And what, if anything, he might know about your apartment and its contents.”

“Then take these,” Lia said, gesturing at the photos in the file. “Your grandfather should see them.” She paused. “Will you tell me what you learn? What he says?”

Gabriel hesitated.

“You don’t want to show him the photos?”

“I do.” He toyed with the edge of the folder. “At the risk of sounding like a serial killer, I was wondering if you might want to accompany me.”

“To your family home?”

“I understand that you might need to get back to Paris right away, but I thought—”

“No,” Lia interrupted. “I mean, no, I don’t need to get back to Paris. Not right away. And, yes, I’d very much like to come with you.”

Gabriel smiled at her, his grey eyes crinkling in the corners. “Good. I’m glad.”