Page 63 of Afraid to Hope

“I don’t know. Between what’s in the letter Mémé left in the safe-deposit box and examining the ledger and manifest, I’m hoping we can discover the answer. Her letter recounted what happened. Let’s talk it out.”

“Okay. Your grandfather told your grandmother his meeting was in Rabat and he’d be overnighting there. She asked him to put her jewelry in the safe-deposit box because it was close to his supposed route of travel.”

“Yes,” Natasha said, picking up the thread. “It makes sense since they were leaving for holiday that weekend.” She paused in her examination and glanced at Bane. “I know for a fact Mémé preferred to leave her jewelry in the lockbox when they were gone for any extended time. So Pépé did. We saw his signature and the date, so he had his key.”

“Right, but when your grandfather was found in Asilah, not in Rabat, he only had one key on him. His car key.”

“Yes. The hotel Pépé checked into early kept his bag, but he never returned. They delivered his bag to her and, after Mémé was able to cope with some of her grief, she went through his bag and discovered the codex with a note he’d left for her. A just in case note, Mémé called it. He told her to hide the book and never mention it to anyone.” Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose, then cupped her chin, her gray eyes turbulent as she looked at him. “Jesus, Bane. Pépé knew. He knew his life was in danger.” She wiped furiously at her eyes, then put her hand out when Bane moved to comfort her. “What did Mémé do with the note? I’m okay. It’s just… just… Dammit. I have so many questions.”

Bane reached for her again. “Nat…”

“I need a moment,” she said, ducking her shoulder away from him. “And I have to put on a fresh pair of gloves.”

A bit later, Natasha had regained her composure. “No. I’m fine. Really.” She regarded the codex with awe. “It’s simply exquisite. My grandmother figured out the correct way to best store this. This looks to be a polyethylene bag, which discourages mold spores and spoilage by allowing the book to breathe. The craftsmanship is unbelievable,” she declared. “The bindings… Oh my word! See these?” She pointed to the ornamentation. “They are the craftsman’s distinctive mark, equivalent to modern-day commercial signatures.”

“Interesting. I have a logo for my work.”

Natasha paused, leaning on the counter with the heels of her hands. She tilted her head, her expression inquisitive. “You’re a craftsman?”

“Uh, yeah,” he revealed sheepishly, unsure how Natasha would feel about what he did, what he loved doing when he wasn’t under contract for his specialty. “I’m a blacksmith. I forge wrought iron. Started when we needed things replaced or repaired on the farm. It expanded from there with the home-improvement and renovation craze. Gates, fences, stairs, pergolas. You name it.”

She covered his broad wrist with her delicate hand. “I’d love to see your work someday.”

The idea of a someday with Natasha filled him with hope. Bane didn’t answer. It was during these moments—when they were intensely focused on other things, working with and supporting each other, like in the kitchen performing field surgery on Rafiq, and now—that one of them mentioned a possible future between them. Had she noticed?

Heat flushed Natasha’s insides like rushing water when she realized what she had just said.Someday.“We should get back to this.” She rolled her shoulders, then flexed and stretched her fingers. Natasha selected a flat and narrow curved microspatula from her tools. “I don’t want to chance the codex coming into contact with the counter,” she said, answering Bane’s questioning expression. “This appears to be in excellent condition. I’m going to try to open it.” She took a deep breath and swallowed. “My heart is pounding. Can you video this?”

“Sure.” Bane reached for his phone and positioned himself on the other side of the metal table. “Do you need a mask or goggles?”

“No,” Natasha responded, reverently trailing her fingers around the edges of the two-inch-thick codex, feeling for the best place to begin.

“Do you have them?”

“I do.” She laughed. “Should I put them on to entertain you?”

“Um, no. There are other things you could put on or take off that would entertain me much more.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. She returned to examining the codex. Its binding was one continuous piece of dark brown and surprisingly supple leather. It looked to be hand-embossed and stamped. Gilded gold and insets of turquoise and other stones enhanced the design. “This is incredible,” she whispered. “Are you getting this?”

“Yep.”

The binding resembled an envelope, its flap secured by a wooden peg inserted into a leather strap that extended from the back cover and over the front cover. The Teflon-coated metal spatula slid in easily. Natasha moved it slowly between the ancient pages at an angle, away from the spine, alert for the slightest hint of friction or worse—a tear—then repeated the process from a different angle. The pages separated with little complaint.

“Ready?” she asked, glancing at him and letting out the breath she had been holding.

“I’m ready when you are, sweetheart.”

The codex opened without issue and the cover rested easily on the table, supported on her shawl.

Natasha’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god,” she gasped in disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Bane echoed right after her. He stopped recording and raised his phone to his ear. “Emmet, there’s been another development.”

Natasha closed her eyes and reopened them, only to goggle in disbelief at the incipit of the codex—its first page. The book hand was uncial—a Greek form of capitals, indicating the ancient book was written somewhere between the fourth century BCE and the eighth or ninth century CE. Below the uncial covering, the top half the page was the name of Alexander III of Macedon. Alexander the Great. What they were looking at was the rumored codex that had disappeared prior to World War II. She was sure of it.

The codex in front of her fit the description of the one that had vanished during World War II, mentioned by Emmet during their initial meeting with Rafiq. Natasha shook her head, finding it difficult to believe she was in its presence.

Bane captured it all on his phone. “I uploaded to the cloud and deleted it from my phone.”

---