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“I was only six years old when she died,” Maya said. “I hardly remember her.”
“But you remember some things.”
Maya nodded and continued to rack her mind for memories. The few she had had sustained her for forty-two years— and she gave them to Olivia, now, knowing they were like fuel.
“She loved Christmas,” Maya said softly. “Even when I was really, really little, I remember sitting on Mom’s lap and gazing up at the Christmas tree. She spent a lot of time making it perfect. I remember my dad lifting me up and pretending to ballroom dance with me as Mom played Christmas records. She had the very best cookie recipes. One Christmas, when I was four or five, I remember eating too many and getting very sick. She stayed up with me by the fire, telling me stories. She must have been so angry with herself for letting me eat too many.” Maya chuckled sadly.
Olivia closed her eyes as though she could imagine the scenes. As though the Christmas tree at the Nettle Creek Bed and Breakfast was the same one their mother had decorated all those years ago.
“I was adopted by our neighbors after my parents’ death,” Maya went on. “They were Christians, and they wanted to do the right thing, but I knew they resented me. And they could never bring themselves to love me. I grew up confused about who I was and my place in the world. And in many ways, that’s affected who I am all the way through adulthood.”
Olivia’s lower lip quivered. “I feel the same.”
The sisters were quiet. Maya ached to tell her everything Veronica had imparted just that afternoon. But something in Olivia’s eyes told her there would be time for that. Later. Maya just had to be patient.
“Wait here,” Olivia ordered. She disappeared upstairs and returned with the heirloom necklace, which glinted ominously. Maya remembered it from all those family photographs, and her heart skipped a beat as she held it.
Then again, it was only a necklace. It was only a few pieces of rock.
“Our Grandma Diane stole this necklace when she ran away from her family in England,” Maya said softly.
Olivia shivered. “It scared me to wear it. Even though I didn’t fully know the backstory, it felt haunted.”
Maya handed the necklace back to Olivia and raised her chin. Olivia looked surprised to have it back, as though she’d still expected Maya to pocket it and flee the bed and breakfast.
“About ten years ago, I befriended one of the maids who worked at the Albright mansion,” Olivia said. “When I told her about my relationship with the Albrights, she told me where they kept the heirloom necklace. She said she would never steal it for me herself because she was too frightened— but that if I ever made it inside, I could take it.”
This amazed Maya. Olivia had been planning this theft for years. When Maya had arrived in Hollygrove, she’d started up a chain of events that had led Olivia and Maya here.
“There’s a safe behind the wardrobe in the second bedroom on the third floor,” Olivia went on. “Before her death, it was Grandma Diane’s office.”
Maya nodded, remembering the room. She hadn’t been able to pull aside every piece of furniture. More than that, she hadn’t cared to. The necklace hadn’t mattered enough. Her real quest had been discovering the truth of her family.
“What is your plan, now?” Olivia asked softly.
Maya raised her shoulders. “I don’t know. What’s yours?”
Tears shimmered down Olivia’s cheeks. She turned and gazed at the Christmas tree, lost in thought.
“The inheritance,” Maya began quietly. “It’s half yours.”
Olivia arched her eyebrow as though she still didn’t believe Maya.
Maya raised both hands. “Fifty million is more money than I know what to do with.”
Olivia bowed her head. “It’s strange. I thought the money was all I wanted— that and recognition as an Albright. But now that you’re offering it to me, the idea of all that cash makes me feel resigned.” Olivia rubbed her neck. “Of course, I’ll take it. I’ve struggled with money my entire life, and I’ve turned into a resentful person because of it. But to be honest with you, Maya.” She raised her eyes toward Maya and stared at her with longing. “I’m realizing now that all I really want is a sister. Someone to call when times get tough. Or— more than that— someone to celebrate with. Someone to invite to my birthday party. Someone who looks so much like me and who seems to see the world in the same way.”
Maya’s throat was tight with sorrow. She stood and cleared the distance between herself and Olivia, taking her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me when we first met?”
“I keep asking myself the same thing,” Olivia whispered. “I assumed you’d be like the rest of the Albrights. Greedy. Pompous.” She shrugged. “I assumed you wouldn’t believe me.”
“On the contrary. Even if you were lying right now about being my sister, I’d welcome it. Even though I was adopted, my adoptive siblings refused to call me their sister. But here you are, yelling that we’re related across the rooftops. How can I refuse?”
Olivia laughed and wrapped her arms around Maya. Maya’s heart flipped over. In her mind’s eye, she imagined herself and Olivia in another dimension— living their girlhoods alongside one another. How different would Maya have been if she’d had an older sister? How differently would she have treated her friends? What decisions would she have made? Would she have respected herself and her heart more?
When their hug broke, Maya blinked away tears and laughed at herself. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I feel a little foolish.”
“Not as foolish as me,” Olivia said.
