But at that moment, Callum looked toward the airport doors.
His face suddenly went pale.
I turned around.
My sister stood just beyond the sliding doors.
For one stunned second, I did not recognize her.
Then she lifted a hand to her mouth.
“Eloise?”
Hearing my name in her voice nearly broke me.
She hurried toward me.
Callum stepped away from the car.
My sister stopped when she saw him.
Her expression changed instantly.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to speak to her first,” Callum replied.
Her eyes dropped to the white box in my hands.
All the color left her face.
“You found it.”
I looked between them.
“You both know what’s in this?”
My sister swallowed.
“I know enough.”
“Then somebody needs to start talking.”
She glanced toward the terminal.
“Not here.”
Callum shook his head.
“She has waited 30 years.”
“I didn’t make her wait.”
“No,” he said quietly. “We all did.”
That word struck me hardest.
We.
My hands tightened around the box.
“Get in the car.”
Neither of them argued.
Callum drove.
My sister sat beside me in the back seat.
For the first few minutes, nobody spoke.
I watched familiar streets pass outside the window.
