Bram Sr. wandered past me, toward the staircase. “Is the upstairs still the same as it used to be?”

“If by same you mean more drama than on Broadway.” His grandson would be gone for only a few minutes. If I wanted to ask the man anything, it would have to be now. “I was—”

“You know, I think I’d like to hazard that basement after all.”

I led the way, opening the door, then flicking on the light. Nervous energy pushed me forward. Impatience stopped me halfway down. This was it, the secret of secrets in my family. I had to ask. I might not have another chance.

“Were you and Violet ever more than friends? What I mean is…” I didn’t want to offend him, but the question was burning through me. The clock was ticking. I wanted to have this conversation between the two of us, in private. “Are you my grandfather?”

The world stopped turning. Even the dust motes stilled in the air. My lungs froze between one breath and the next.

A moment out of time.

Then the clock of the universe restarted.

Bram Sr. grabbed the railing, as if my question were a blow and he needed support. “Oh dear.” His gray eyebrows drew together in distress. “Oh, I see. I’m so sorry. I’m not your grandfather, Emsley.” His voice rang with profound sadness. “But I would give everything I have to be able to say I am. Please believe me.”

A dull ache spread in my chest.

He took a tentative step down, then another, visibly shaken. I went back to assist him. I shouldn’t have agreed to show him down there. I shouldn’t have asked stupid questions.

The corners of his mouth tilted down as if pulled by a lifetime of regrets. “I would have done anything for Violet. For us to be together like that. I was stuck in a loveless marriage for too many decades. But Violet wouldn’t have had me for a husband, anyway. She never wanted to get married.”

“Do you know why?”

“She didn’t want to be tied to anyone. And, I think, she didn’t entirely trust men. No wonder, of course, after that cursed Vanderbilt party.” Bram Sr.’s eyes flashed, sharp and hard, and for a moment, he was a much younger man, one ready to charge off to battle.

“What happened at the Vanderbilt party?”

He focused on the next step and wouldn’t look at me. “It’s not my place to say.”

“I can’t ask anyone else.”

We made our way to the bottom of the steps, and he turned away from me. “Well, hello, Tiny Tim. It’s been a while.”