“She said her name was Marlene,” the baker whispered. “She said she was family.” My eyes swept across the yard until they froze on a woman standing near the back fence, half hidden behind the balloon arch. She wore sunglasses and a pale gray coat, far too heavy for the warm afternoon. She wasn’t cheering. She wasn’t smiling. She was simply watching Sophie with an expression I couldn’t name.

Daniel held the metallic object up to the light. It was a small silver locket, old and scratched, its chain looped and tarnished. He pried it open with his thumbnail. Inside was a tiny folded photograph and three words scratched into the metal: “Ask her mother.” Sophie made a sound like all the air had left her body. She looked at me, then at the woman by the fence, and the color drained from her lips. “Mom,” she breathed. “Why is she here?”