“I brought dinner,” I said. “But what’s going on?”
His fingers closed around the locket.
“I thought you couldn’t come, Fiona.”
“Before she died,” he said, “your mother begged me to stay silent.”
My blood went cold.
“About what?”
Victor looked toward the kitchen window, where Mom used to watch him when she thought I wasn’t looking.
“About who I am.”
“About what?”
***