Chapter 1 - THE SILVER BRACELET AND THE FROZEN LOBBY
Eleanor Crawford stood motionless under the crystal chandelier.
Her breathing hitched,
the ambient noise of the Chicago lobby vanished,
and every eye turned toward her.
Richard Sterling forced a polished, oily smile onto his face.
He stepped forward,
extending a hand.
Mrs. Crawford,
he began,
his voice dripping with sycophantic charm.
Apologies for the little domestic disturbance,
my wife is simply having a hysterical episode.
Eleanor did not blink,
nor did she look at Richard.
Her gaze remained locked onto the dull silver metal etched with twin lilies around my wrist.
Where did you get that,
Eleanor whispered,
her voice barely audible over the hum of the HVAC system.
I swallowed hard,
my hand trembling against my pregnant belly.
It was on my wrist when I was found,
I answered softly,
near a church mission outside Waverly, Illinois,
when I was a newborn.
Eleanor let out a sharp, ragged gasp.
The color drained entirely from her face,
and she stumbled half a step backward.
Security guards instinctively moved to steady her,
but she waved them away with a fierce, trembling hand.
My daughter,
Eleanor breathed,
May you like
tears spilling instantly down her cheeks,
my little girl.
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