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“We have everything, don’t we?” Patricia said to Alice.

“Except a finger.” Alice held up her right hand. “I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t get a prosthetic finger.”

“You can’t?” Ryan asked.

Julia smiled at him. “Apparently the little finger isn’t considered essential, and although she could get a prosthetic to strap on to her hand, it wouldn’t be bionic.”

“What’s the point it if isn’t bionic?” Alice huffed.

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “I don’t see the point either. So, this trip? You really think you’ll find treasure?”

“Even if we don’t,” Patricia said, “it doesn’t matter. It would be amazing if we at least found evidence that the site had been used to store treasure. That way our theory about the textiles having a language within their imagery would be proven.” She grinned widely, and it was easy to tell she was more interested in her textiles find than the treasure.

“I want the treasure,” Alice said. “Although the Peruvian government probably won’t let us keep any of it. You’d think after everything I went through, everything we all went through, they’d let us keep a teeny-tiny bit of the treasure. After all, we did hand them Esteban’s head. Is it too much to ask for some gratitude?”

“Yeah, but we also handed them an airport full of dead bodies and the wreck of a burning plane,” Ryan pointed out.

“At least we were able to get the plane crew back to their families and Ed to Lima,” Julia said softly. “That’s good.”

He knew she still had nightmares about the crew being caught in the fire. He’d told her time and again that they were already dead before the plane exploded—he’d seen it himself—but Julia’s subconscious wouldn’t listen.

“That is good.” He kissed her temple and breathed in her soft scent.

“What’s also good,” Ryan said around a mouthful of food, “is that Rachel’s dad didn’t charge us for the plane. Insurance covered it.” His eyes went wide. “Fifty-five million. Million!”

“Don’t think we’ll be allowed to borrow the new plane, though,” Elle said. “Pity. I liked flying private.”

The little band Julia’s sister had put together finished their mini set of travel-themed songs, which made people laugh and applaud.

Patricia smiled fondly in the direction of her eldest granddaughter. “She is such an attention hound.” She turned that smile onto Julia. “You ready to give me my present?”

Julia straightened her shoulders and rolled her eyes. Joe could practically feel the determination emanating from her.

“You know I’d only do this for you, Gran.”

“As it should be.” Patricia’s haughty look was the mirror image of the one Julia used on Joe.

“Do what?” he said. “Do you need help?” He didn’t like the grim set of her mouth. Whatever she was about to do was something she had to work herself up to.

“Not this time.” She went onto tiptoes and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “This is for you too,” she whispered against his ear. “Enjoy it. It will never happen again.” She leaned back, looking anxious. “And Joe, please don’t take your eyes off me.”

“Never,” he promised.

Then she turned and walked through the crowd to the makeshift stage.

“What’s she doing?” Elle said in shock. “She isn’t going up on the stage, is she? She’s Julia. She can’t do that.”

“Her head will probably blow off from the stress,” Ryan said, making Joe growl at him.

“And now,” Belinda called over the sound system, “a special treat for all of you. Julia Collins is going to sing for us.”

Joe sucked in a breath as gasps erupted around him.

The crowd clapped politely, and Joe caught Julia’s eyes as the music began to play. She held his gaze as though he were her lifeline. And then Julia sang. The words burned into him, each one a declaration of her feelings for him. She was singing of her love for him, in front of everyone. Joe listened to the lyrics of “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” as Julia made it come alive. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, and the crowd were mesmerised, completely in awe of her ability. The stories about her award-winning voice as a child hadn’t been exaggerated. He could only imagine it had gotten better with age.

He held her eyes and felt like there was no one in the room except them. He could feel the lyrics, the melody, like a caress. He could feel her love for him, and it was a boundless thing that humbled him.

“Isn’t she wonderful?” Patricia whispered to him.

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