My throat closed.
My mother.
Quiet, practical, gentle Marion Caldwell, who packed lunches with handwritten notes and worked double shifts without complaint. I had known she was observant. I had known she was compassionate.
I had not known the beginning of my life’s work had been born in her tired hands after midnight, somewhere between hospital rounds and home.
“Jason knew?” I asked.
Thomas nodded.
“He found out through Evelyn. She recognized the value before any of us did. That is why Jason came into your life so quickly. That is why he invested in your research. That is why Evelyn insisted on bringing you into the family business.”
I stepped back.
The romance I had once believed in shifted under the weight of new meaning.
Jason had not discovered my brilliance and loved me for it.
He had identified an inheritance no one had thought to protect.
Clara covered her mouth.
