I stared at the face until my eyes burned.
The photograph was old, its edges faded and its lighting poor, but the features were unmistakable. The sharp jawline. The thoughtful eyes. The quiet strength I'd known my entire life.
I zoomed in again, hoping I was wrong.
I wasn't.
My hands trembled as I opened my messages and typed to Gabriel.
Gabriel… the fourth person in that old photograph. Is it my grandmother? Elena's mother? Or is it—
I stopped typing.
I didn't need to finish the question.
Deep down, I already knew the answer.
And knowing made me feel as though the ground beneath my feet had shifted.
---
Early the next morning, I found Mom sitting on the hotel balcony, watching the sunlight spill across Lake Geneva.
She looked peaceful, but her shoulders were tense. She seemed
