Page 164 of When Hearts Surrender

But what if?

He freezes, and I feel the tension mounting in his muscles. My heart races inside me and I ask, “Don’t you feel like there’s a piece of a riddle we’re missing? An answer that has been evading us this whole time?”

I think about the missing journal hidden in the rooftop garden, the one I haven’t shown him yet. The strong feeling of home whenever I’m in his presence.

Maxwell blows out a ragged breath. “Shit. I never thought of that. I was just so relieved when I learned the deaths were from foul play, because that meant I could be with you.”

I open my mouth to speak. “Maxwell, we can still—”

“Shh,” he holds his hand up, “Let me finish.” He cups my face and looks me in the eye, his gaze intense. “I promise you, I won’t run away this time. We’ll face our future together. We’ll find the damn answers together.Ifthere is a curse, wewillbreak it together.”

Chapter 60

“Here it is, WraithmoorAntiquities,” I murmur to Maxwell as we duck under the awning, away from the light morning drizzle, which carries with it the clean, earthy smell of spring. I called this morning to make sure Eleanor was here before visiting.

“What if we don’t get answers about the curse, if there is still one? Or the dreams?”

“Belle,” Maxwell laces my fingers with his, “even if coming here is a waste of time, I’m happy because you’re by my side. That’s all that matters.” He swallows and continues, “I’m not running away anymore. We’ll figure this out together.”

Heat swirls inside me, and I smile at him. “You’re right.”

“Come on, let’s not keep her waiting.”

He pushes open the door and pulls me into the shop. The same spicy aroma of incense hits my nostrils, and the door closes behind us with a soft click.

Eleanor looks up from where she stands behind the counter, her eyes widening as she sharply inhales a breath.

Something has obviously surprised her, given the way she’s clutching the pearls around her neck. When I made the appointment to visit her, I didn’t tell her Maxwell was coming with me.

“Eleanor, this is my husband, Maxwell.” I glance at him, finding his brows furrowed in apparent confusion. “This is Eleanor. Her family owns this antiquities shop.”

The old lady recovers and clears her throat. She motions for us to take a seat on the other side of the counter.

“You’re ready,” she murmurs, her eyes knowing. “I knew you’d come back.”

“Yes, well, here I am. Can you tell us everything you know about the Anderson family and the locket?” I release a stale breath. Maxwell gives me a squeeze in reassurance.

She stares at us for a beat, her eyes skating over Maxwell’s face again before she shakes her head in apparent disbelief.

“It’s uncanny. The resemblance.”

Hairs rise on the back of my neck.

Her lips tip in a secretive smile. She pulls open a drawer and takes out a yellowed parchment, her frail hands shaking as she slowly unfolds it before setting it on the countertop.

I gasp.

It’s a beautiful drawing of a man cradling a woman in the rain, shriveled roses in the background. The woman’s face is half-hidden, but I see the silhouette, a birthmark under her eye.She looks like me.

What on earth?My pulse races in my ears.

The man’s features are also carefully drawn.

It’s Silas. A devastated Silas.

I turn and stare at my husband, finding his face ashen. He shakes his head. “M-My dream… How? Tell me what’s going on.”

Eleanor sighs as she stares at the artwork. “I don’t have all the answers, because everything I know has been passed down through the generations. They’re stories told by the fireplace…stories that seem too far-fetched to believe. But now…”

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