Page 26 of Strangers She Knows

“Yes. Long ago. Remember? Daddy’s told us.”

“Yes, but I didn’tknowthem then.”

Kellen loaded the remains of lunch into their lunch basket. “We need the family Bible for the dates. Come on. Let’s find Gerard Morgade’s wife.”

“And Ruby’s mother.”

Picnic basket in hand, Kellen and Rae left the attic and clattered down the stairs. In their hurry, they failed to firmly shut the door behind them.

Inside the attic, the inner door opened.

The outer door opened.

A soft laugh followed them down the stairs.

They didn’t notice.

9

Kellen and Rae rifled through the library, looking for Morgade family photos, and found a picture of the newlywed couple.

Gerard Morgade was tall, overweight, in a beige suit with a waistcoat, a stiff collar and wide cravat. He was probably forty—and without expression. He showed no pleasure in the occasion or his young wife.

The bride had a pale painted face with red lips, wore a Japanese kimono that gave her shape, yet beneath that she was obviously nothing more than a malnourished girl.

Rae pointed. “That’s them!”

“That’s vile.” Kellen was more upset than she supposed she should be, but the idea of that cold, cruel man taking possession of a teenager to use for breeding and as hostess…

Max stepped into the door of the library. “The sun is out. Do you want to—?” He focused on Kellen. “What’s wrong?”

“Mommy’s remembering her first husband.” Rae sounded too wise and very kind.

Kellen’s mouth twisted. How odd to have her daughter read her so well. But sometimes, she looked at Rae and thought that was what she would have been like, if her parents had lived or Aunt Cora had been loving or…

Or. She’d made choices in her life, not all of them good. That Cecilia/Kellen thing, for instance.

Now she was proud of the person she’d become, and she believed Cousin Kellen would be, too. She had a daughter and a husband, and the bullet was gone from her brain. Except for the pesky matters of Mara Philippi, vicious murderer, and a fight to save her hand from atrophy, how much better could life be?

Max engulfed Kellen and Rae in his arms. The three of them stood together, warmed and united, and Kellen thought she could stand like this forever.

But after half a minute, Rae wiggled free. “Daddy, we found Ruby Morgade’s diary!”

“Did you? In the attic? I didn’t think you’d find anything but cobwebs.”

“It’s actually clean up there,” Kellen said.

“Did you know Mrs. Morgade was Japanese?” Rae showed Max the photo.

Max took the framed portrait. “That must have been a scandal in its time.”

Kellen eased the photo out of the frame, turned it over and found their names carefully written in faded ink. “She is Reika. I wonder what happened to her and the kids during the war.”

“Why?” Rae had seen a few of Max’s old war movies, but other than that, she hadn’t a clue.

“The Japanese were the enemy, so the government moved all Japanese Americans off the coast and into the interior.” And into internment camps. But Kellen wasn’t going to try to explain that.

“Why?” Rae said again.

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