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.After her mother's strong reaction earlier, she almost felt like an intruder, a thief in the night.But she wasn't here to steal anything, except perhaps some peace of mind.She checked the bookshelves first.They were crammed with fishing magazines and books about real estate and brokering.Finally she spied two large, red bound books in the corner.Standing on tiptoe, she pulled them off the shelf and sat on the sofa.The first book was a pictorial of her mother's childhood, her older brother, her parents, none of whom Joanna could remember except in this way, as photos in a scrapbook.The next book began with Edward and Caroline on their honeymoon in Hawaii.She smiled at how young and in love they looked, so adoring toward each other, her father with his arm around her mother's shoulders, her mother practically blooming in his arms.The photograph reassured her that everything was right in her world.The camera didn't lie.Her parents had loved each other, just as they had loved her.There were no hidden secrets.It was simply her imagination.But as the pages turned, she began to notice blank spots, and fewer photos in between holiday occasions.The book ended with a picture of herself in a baby gown.There were no pictures of her mother pregnant.No photos of them leaving for the hospital.Nothing.She tried desperately to remember the stories they had told.Surely they had talked about her mother's pregnancy, the labor and delivery.Hadn't they? She shook her head, feeling incredibly tired.This was pointless.What was she thinking anyway? She was the daughter of Edward and Caroline Wingate, and it was just a crazy coincidence that she happened to look like Angela Ashton.Closing the book, she set it back on the shelf.As she walked by the desk, the lingering scent of smoke filled her senses, almost as if her father were standing in the room with her, smoking his cigar.But it didn't really smell like his cigars; it smelled like the lingering trace of a fire in the fireplace.But the fireplace was stone cold.She glanced over at the desk and saw a layer of thin black dust.She cast a quick glance toward the door.It was closed.With a feeling of incredible dread, she walked over to the desk and ran her finger through the dust, Then she pulled the wastebasket out from under the desk.Inside was a pile of newspapers and black ashes.Her mother had burned something.Joanna looked for the manila envelope she'd seen earlier.It was gone from the desk.Sinking down in the chair, she stared at the ashes.What on earth was her mother hiding?* * *The next morning Caroline strolled into the offices of Grant Sullivan, attorney at law, her handbag clutched in front of her like a shield.In terse tones she gave her name to the receptionist.She didn't want to be here, but she had no choice.Since she had seen the photo of Angela Ashton, she had been struck with terror, the same terror she'd felt when Edward had been diagnosed with cancer and she knew it would only be a matter of months before she lost him.She could not lose Joanna -- not now."He's just finishing a phone call, Mrs.Wingate," the receptionist said."Would you like some coffee while you wait?""No, thank you."She sat down on the white leather couch.As she looked around the plush offices, she was reminded of how far Grant Sullivan had come.She had worked as his receptionist thirty-six years earlier.In those days he'd offered her a typewriter and a scratched desk.Now his reception area was filled with plush chairs, glass tables, ornate vases, and silk flowers.Grant had certainly done well for himself.Although she'd socialized with him over the years, only he and Edward had conducted actual business, so she hadn't really been aware of his success.Now she felt a burst of renewed confidence.Grant was a smart man.He would know what to do."He'll see you now," the receptionist said.She stood up and walked into the inner office.Grant stepped out from around his large desk.He was a rather short man, not many inches taller than herself, with golden blond hair, the color of which surely came out of a bottle, sparkling green eyes and a deep tan."Caroline, it's good to see you.""Thanks for letting me barge in on you like this.""I'm always available for you.Have a seat."She sat down in the chair in front of his desk, nervous about what she should say.She didn't know how much Grant knew.What if he didn't know anything? What if by telling him, she was jeopardizing the very secret she wanted to protect?"How have you been?" Grant asked, resuming his seat."I didn't get to talk to you much after the service.The house was so crowded,""Edward had a lot of friends.It was nice to see so many people there.""He was a great guy, right down to the end.I've never seen such courage.He had a lot of heart.""Yes." She hadn't come here to reminisce about a man they had both loved.She had come here for answers, and she wouldn't leave without them."How's Joanna?" Grant asked, distracting her again."Keeping busy.She's teaching first grade this summer.""No kidding? I thought she was Ivy League all the way.""It's just to fill in the time, take her mind off things.She'll go back to Stanford in the fall." Caroline wondered how long they would have to exchange pleasantries before she could tell him why she was here."I still can't believe Edward is gone.So fast," Grant added."We were the same age, you know
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