Does it? “I thought we had decades left. I had postrecovery plans.”

“You feel like you’ve been on a train, going steadily forward on a track, and then the track disappeared.”

The truth in his words hit me in the middle of my chest, the shock of the punch reverberating through my bones. He’d nailed exactly what I felt.

Then again, he was an estate attorney. Of course he knew about grief. He’d lived through it with countless clients.

“What do I do?”

“You build new tracks.”

“I don’t want new tracks. I want the old tracks back.”

His eyes held profound understanding, and instead of the usual weak “everything happens for a reason” platitude, all he said was a heartfelt “Yeah.”

And somehow, that one-word acknowledgment was all I needed.

The silence that stretched between us grew from grief laden to comfortable. Before it could have stretched all the way to awkward, Strena popped in. Her eyes were swollen, as if she’d been crying upstairs.

“Hey. Oh, hey, Bram.” Then to me, “The models are gone. I have to run and take care of something. I won’t be able to talk today. I’ll catch you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

As Strena left, Bram checked his watch. “Can I help you with anything else today?”

I slid off my barstool. “I think I can take it from here.”

I followed him out through the gallery, to his shoulder bag by the stairs. He opened it and handed me a large UPS envelope. “Read. Sign. Call if you have any questions.”

“Is there something in here that proves I’m the sole beneficiary? Violet’s Realtor needs confirmation, so the sale of the house can go through.”

“Beatriz? I know her. Why don’t I take care of that?”

“Thank you. And thank you again for all the help.”

He walked to the foyer. “I enjoyed meeting you, Emsley.”

I locked the door behind him, then turned over the envelope in my hand. Postage paid, ready to be dropped off at the nearest UPS box, no further personal interaction necessary.

I doubted I would see Bram Dekker again.

Chapter Ten

Johanna

1889, Paris

Theo and I were married on the 17th of April, in Amsterdam.

The wedding was small, just my family, my friend Anna and her new husband, Jan Veth, and some of the neighbors. Theo couldn’t stop smiling. I thought he might take flight and circle around the ceiling like a bird. I was so nervous, my mother had to remind me to unclench my fingers.

“It’ll be over fast,” she whispered, guessing the cause of my anxiety. “It’s nothing to fuss over, dear.”

I held on to that and managed to live through the solemn service. All I wanted was to get through the rest and have the most embarrassing part behind me.