We? Exactly who was waiting for me? I didn’t feel like seeing Martin right now.

I followed Angélica into the parlor. Laurent, Catalina, Alberto, and Tomás Aquilino stared at me from their seats around the coffee table. Where was Martin? Had he told them the truth? No, he’d covered up for me in front of Julia. But what was going on here? I’d just seen Aquilino the previous day.

I shook hands with the lawyer. His handshake was weak and he avoided my eyes the entire time. Come to think of it, everybody seemed to be avoiding my eyes.

“Shall we wait for Martin?” Alberto said.

“No,” Angélica said. “He’s not part of this family.”

So she was still irritated with him. But little did I care about the complexities of their relationship at the moment. I dug my hands in my pockets to hide their tremor.

Aquilino turned to me. “Señor . . .” He cleared his throat. “Padre Alberto was kind enough to bring me over to discuss with the family some disconcerting news I received this morning.”

Disconcerting?

“I received a letter from a British captain—I think his last name is Blake—from a ship called the Andes. He’s trying to locate Doña María Purificación de Lafont y Toledo to notify her that her husband’s remains have been found. Apparently, the only address he has in connection to Mrs. Lafont is mine since her husband had sent me a telegram from Cuba.”

Cristóbal was found?

I leaned on the arm of the couch, light-headed. My face was on fire, my chest thumping. How had they found him? I wanted to see him! But then, as soon as I realized the extent of the news, I looked around the room at all the puzzled faces staring back at me. They didn’t understand a thing—obviously. How was it possible that my remains had been found when I was alive and well, standing right in front of them?

Here it was, the moment I’d been dreading. I looked around the room. Catalina, Angélica, and Laurent were staring at me. Alberto was simply nodding as if nothing could shock a man in his line of work.

“But if Don Cristóbal passed away weeks ago,” Aquilino said slowly, “then who are you?”

“An impostor!” Laurent said. “I knew it!”

“I don’t understand. Didn’t our sister die on the ship?” Angélica said. “Where is she now?”

Catalina had turned pale. She merely looked from one face to another trying to make sense of things.

“It was to be expected,” Laurent said. “A fortune like this one attracts all kinds of scoundrels.”

A scoundrel? He was the only scoundrel here! I was about to respond, to defend myself, but Angélica spoke first.

“Well? Aren’t you going to tell us who you are?”