Page 54 of One Last Step

And I know without a doubt now that Claudia is Annie’s daughter.The last entry of Laura’s journal proves that.

She gives me a bemused smile and says, “If you keep looking at me like that, you’re going to make me blush.”

I beam at her and say, “You look beautiful.”

She laughs.And she does blush.“Thank you.You look beautiful too.”

I chuckle.“I suppose I look all right.But come, let’s get some food.If you like the strudels here, you’ll love the spinach and prosciutto crepes.”

“I’m not much of a fan of spinach,” she says, “but for your sake, Mary, I’ll try.”

“Your mother wasn’t a fan of spinach either,” I tell her.

She looks at me quizzically.“My mother?”

“Yes.I’ll explain everything, but first, we must order our food.I would prefer to do this on a full stomach.”

She keeps the quizzical look, but a slight smile joins it.“All right.If you insist.”

We sit down and order our food.While we wait, I ask, “So will you remain in Geneva, or will you be off to parts unknown?”

“I spend most of my time here,” she replies, “but they ship me out occasionally.”

I raise an eyebrow.“Oh?I thought Interpol was based in France.”

“It is, but we have offices all over Europe.We’d love for the rest of the world to join us, but you Americans simply can’t stand to admit that Europe can do anything right, so I think that will be a hard fight.”

I laugh at that."Well, that's good that you'll be here.I would like to see you from time to time if that's all right."

Our food arrives, and Claudia takes a bite of the crepe.Her lips tremble a little, but she forces the bite down.She smiles ruefully and says, “Well, I’ve tried it.But I still hate spinach.”

I laugh heartily and call the server over.She orders steak and eggs, and hands me the rest of her crepe."So, is this the part where you tell me how you knew my mother?"she asks.

I take a deep breath and look down at my plate.My stomach is fluttering, but I don’t think eating more will help with that.And besides, I came here to finally confront my past and hopefully find an answer to the most important question I’ve ever asked.

“Yes,” I reply.“She was my sister.”

I’m not sure what reaction I expect: shock, anger, disbelief, maybe awkwardness.I definitely don’t expect her to nod and say, “I figured so.”

I blink.“You… how?”

Her smile widens a little.“You seemed to recognize me when I first arrived at the museum.I knew we’d never met, so I figured that I must remind you of someone.I’ve been told by others that I look exactly like my mother did.My mother talked often about you when I was growing up.Your mannerisms and way of speaking match the description my mother gave me, and… Oh, I’m so sorry.I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

I dab at the tears falling from my face with my napkin.“It’s all right.I just… Really?She talked about me?”

Her smile returns, wistful this time.“She did.Often.I implored her to reach out to you, but she kept making excuses that she was too late, that too much time had passed, that you probably didn’t want to hear from her, and so forth.I’m truly sorry that she never took my advice.”

“So… she is dead then.”

“Yes.I’m sorry.”

I sniffle and dab more tears away.I wait for the resentment and anger to come, knowing that Annie willfully ignored me for thirty years, but it doesn't come.I'm just so relieved to know, finally, after so long, that my sister wasn't murdered.Shedidlive.And she started a family.She found a husband and raised a daughter.She found a place she loved, a place she could stay for her entire life and be content and happy.That’s all I ever wanted for her.

I take a deep breath and release it slowly to steady myself.“So you just put two and two together when you saw me?”

“More or less, but I also confirmed it when I looked you up.I knew my mother as Laura Becker, but I also knew that her name was once Annie Wilcox and that she had grown up in the United States.I was a little surprised to hear your accent.Mom never mentioned that she lived in Britain, but when I read about you, I discovered that you both spent the first half of your childhoods there.”

I sniffle again and give up on stopping the tears.“Yes.I’m afraid there are a few decidedly unpleasant memories from our time in Britain, so I’m not surprised that Annie never told you.”

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