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The tone was so plaintive, so frail, that I cocked my ear, straining to hear, but the only sound was the rain pelting the roof. Did I imagine it?
“Where would I go?” The nasal voice seemed stronger as a nearly transparent silhouette materialized.
I stepped back.
Barely visible, the image lifted its veil to reveal its face, then gave a coquettish leer, accentuating a split between its upper lip and nose. “Am I pretty?” The voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Valentina?” The name came out in a hoarse whisper.
“Am I pretty?!” The tone demanding now, the specter moved closer, bringing her cleft lip directly in line with my vision.
The stench of decay and mold overwhelming, I breathed through my mouth.
“How dare you say I have nothing to avenge and no one to blame but myself?” Valentina lisped.
I pulled back my head. “You committed suicide. No one harmed you but you, so why are you trying to ruin Luke’s and my wedding?”
“Revenge.”
“Against whom?”
“Marianna and her offspring.”
“Why?” I gave a disbelieving laugh. “I read Marianna’s diary. She was long gone before you married Mateo.”
“Maybe gone but not forgotten.” She glanced at the bed. “My husband never stopped loving her.”
I followed her gaze, recalling the rumors.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like growing up with a cleft lip and palate? The stares? The taunts? The pointing fingers? Just eating and drinking were daily challenges, but to be accepted…to be loved…” Valentina’s laugh was contemptuous. “Mateo only married me for convenience.”
How sad to know her husband loved another. I grimaced. No wonder she resented Marianna.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Valentina tossed her chin, her sneer intensifying her deformity.
“What—”
“Don’t you dare pity me.” Jutting her face into mine, Valentina bared her teeth, exposing the gap in her palate.
Too hard to look, I shut my eyes.
The air became arctic.
“Sofia used to look at me that way. Can you imagine? My own daughter ashamed of—”
“Wait a minute.” Trembling from the cold, I blinked. “You said Sofia? Sofia Ramirez?” I recalled the name from the library’s records.
“Yes…why?”
A disbelieving grin tickling my lips, I studied the image in a new light. “Sofia Ramirez was my great-grandmother, which would make you my great-great-grandmother.”
As the atmosphere lightened, the room lost its chill.
My breath no longer fogged the air, and I stopped chafing my arms to keep warm.
Valentina stepped back, studying my face. “Now that you mention it, I do see a family resemblance. Yes! You have Sofia’s green eyes.” Her face relaxing into a smile, she nodded.
I did a double take. Is it my imagination, or is her cleft lip less noticeable? Then speaking quietly, like a commentator’s voiceover at a tennis match, I filled in the gaps of our family tree. “Sofia married Raymond Taylor, whose son Matt married my grandmother, Milly.”
