“It is mine,” she replied. “It belonged to my mother, and she left it with me when I was a baby. I will not surrender the only proof that I ever had a family.”
Gregory slammed his fist against a marble column. A faint crack appeared, spidering through polished stone.
“My wife wore that necklace the night she died in a car accident,” he said. “They told me her unborn child did not survive. There was no other owner. No other story.”
Vanessa swallowed hard. Fear tried to crush her resolve, but a stubborn pride lifted her chin.
“If it is truly yours,” she said, her voice trembling but clear, “then tell me what is engraved on the back. If you know it, you will prove your claim.”
Gregory froze. The entire room waited.
“It says Gregory and Helena, bound forever,” he whispered.
Vanessa turned the locket. The engraving caught the chandelier light. Gregory and Helena, bound forever.
A sound escaped his throat, half sob and half disbelief. He took the locket gently this time, running his thumb across the worn letters as though touching a ghost.
“How old are you,” he asked.
“Twenty two,” Vanessa answered.
“What day were you born.”