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As Maya gathered the ingredients across the counter, there was a loud rap at the door. Maya turned on her heel and glared at Brad. “How did anyone make it out here?”
Brad and Maya hurried to the foyer to open the front door. There on the porch was Olivia. An expensive-looking camera bag hung from her shoulder.
“Olivia!” Maya sounded mystified. “What are you doing here?”
Olivia smiled and gestured toward the snowmobile parked near Brad and Maya’s snow-covered cars. “I figured you’d be home today of all days. It seemed like the perfect time to take photographs for my show. I mean, come on! Look at how gorgeous this mansion looks in the snow.”
Maya hesitated and then stepped back to allow Olivia inside. Brad’s heart thumped. Olivia’s connection to Rainey made him nervous. Then again, her desire to photograph the mansion seemed innocent enough. And she’d been incredibly kind at the diner the other day.
Maybe he was overthinking everything. That sounded like him.
“That’s quite a camera,” Maya said as Olivia removed her Canon from the case.
“It’s my baby,” Olivia affirmed. “I take her with me everywhere, just in case I’m inspired.”
Maya looked loose and happy. “Brad and I were just going to make chili. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“Oh, I would have loved to. Unfortunately, I have plans tonight.” Olivia pressed her lips together. “I really am sorry for storming in like this. I never heard from you after I gave you my card, and…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Maya told her. “I’ve been so busy the past couple of days. Everything slips my mind.”
Maya told Olivia she had free reign over the property. “Brad and I haven’t explored everything yet,” she said. “If you find anything especially interesting, let us know.”
Brad’s chest was heavy as he watched Olivia head east, down the long hallway that led to the library. Was it really okay to let Olivia roam like this?
In the kitchen, Brad verbalized his fears quietly. “I mean, what if she steals something?”
Maya sliced through a yellow onion. “I don’t even know what we have! If she takes something, it means she really needs it. Besides, the photo albums and family memories are the most interesting to me. I don’t know if we’ll ever find that silly heirloom. Maybe it was lost decades ago.”
Brad sliced a red pepper, trying to make sense of Olivia’s visit. Maybe Maya was right; maybe it was innocent.
“I can go check on her,” Brad suggested. “Just to make sure?”
Maya touched Brad’s shoulder gently, and Brad was immediately drawn back into her eyes. His fear dissipated.
“All right,” he said, kissing Maya again. “I’ll stop worrying so much.”
“There’s nothing to be frightened about,” Maya assured him. “We’re here. We’re together. And Olivia will be gone soon. And just think. This summer, we can go to her exhibition and see photographs of the mansion decorated in snow. They’ll be the perfect records of this wonderful time of our lives.”
ChapterThirteen
The snowplows crept through the country roads that afternoon and evening, and Brad was unfortunately needed back at school the following morning. Maya waved as he drove away, her heart in her throat. After such an intense thirty-six hours together, his absence felt painful. She felt the way she had as a teenager when her boyfriend had dropped her off for the night. It was silly. She needed to distract herself. More photographs. More family antiques. Maybe, amongst the mess of everything, she would eventually find the heirloom.
Maya set to work on the third floor, which was a collection of bedrooms, smaller libraries, a music room with a grand piano, and a few offices with ancient-looking computers. The maids had cleaned everything, giving even the old computers the air of having recently been used. When she pressed the “ON” buttons, however, none of them started up.
It was difficult for Maya to imagine who had used them. In Maya’s lifetime, computer use had skyrocketed— and technology had changed exponentially. Had Aunt Veronica spent time in here, perhaps writing essays or novels? Or had Veronica had visitors who’d needed the computers?
In the secondary library, Maya discovered another pile of photographs. These were unorganized and kept in a shoebox, as though whoever had taken them and decided to keep them hadn’t wanted to display them in any way. Many of them were from what looked to be an Albright party. People were stationed around long outdoor tables. Men and women played croquet or rode on horses. Children scampered along the edge of the woods, their feet bare but their clothing exquisite, proof of their wealth. It took a little bit of scouring, but Maya eventually found Veronica and her mother, Bethany, amongst the children. Their hair was long and tangled, and they held hands in many of the photographs as though they were inseparable.
Some of the photographs had been taken at Christmastime 1959. In them, Veronica and Bethany wore stylish Christmas dresses and sat in front of the Christmas tree. Bethany had a Christmas cookie in her hand, and Veronica had both of her arms flung out in front of her as though she were singing a song.
And then, Maya discovered the strangest photo of all. It was at the very bottom of the pile, and it featured a teenage girl holding a tiny baby. On the back of the photograph was the date: 1971.
Maya stared intently at the face of the teenage girl. She was ninety percent sure this was Bethany, her mother. She could have been Phoebe’s twin. Maya wanted to send the photograph to Steve as a final “win” in their long-ago argument when Steve had said Phoebe took after his side of the family and not hers.
But who was the baby? Maya had seen numerous photographs of Bethany at this point— but she’d never seen a tiny baby from the year 1971. And it couldn’t have been Maya. Maya had been born in 1975, four years later.
Maya did a quick calculation. Bethany was sixteen in the photograph. Her thoughts swirling, Maya kept the photograph outside the stack and went downstairs. There was only so much digging she could do per day before she fell apart.
