The name landed in my chest like a struck bell.

It was not a family name — not a Marchand name, not a name chosen to please anyone or secure anything.

It was simply a name a mother had given a daughter she loved, in a life that owed my family nothing.

“She’s beautiful,” I managed, though the real questions burning in my throat were too large to fit inside an airport lounge.

Chapter 7 — Two Years and Seven Months

Gabriela looked down at her daughter, then back up at me.