“Bram, tell me you see him. Please.” Dahlia’s face went ghostly white.
“Uncle, we thought—” Her knees buckled. Bram grabbed her before she hit the ground, and someone shoved a glass of water into his hand.
When she came to, her dad’s sharp gaze was locked on her.
“Sorry to crash the party. Memories decided to show up uninvited. Here I am. Now get up, princess, and finish the show.”
Dahlia was still pale, the world around her a haze of mechanical chatter.
Bergen airport
Gahn boarded the jet to Oslo and dialed Briana. “You owe me big time. Turn your phone to video and get inside.”
He watched the ceremony, her face pale, her expression hollow. “Damn it,” he muttered.
“Okay, I’ll call again. Pick up this time,” he told her.
He punched another number. “Greg, you set?”
“Ready. You call
