Page 127 of When Hearts Remember

It belongs to a kindhearted girl with flaming hair and sky-blue eyes, a girl who lights up every room and my cavernous heart with her mere presence.

“This rare coin is one of a kind because of a misprint in the name. The starting bid is five-hundred thousand. Do I have any bidders?”

“Five-hundred.”

“Six-hundred from number fifty-nine.”

The numbers rise at a breakneck speed, and the blood boils in my veins.

I tug my cuff link and breathe in deeply, letting the vultures fight each other before I go in for the kill.

This treasure is mine.

Her impossible bucket list item—the one thing I thought was unachievable on that list.

No one stands in my way of making her dream come true.

“One million. Do we have any more bidders?”

“One point five.”

The bids slow to a crawl and I flinch when I hear the auctioneer slam the gavel down because this is the moment of the kill.

I raise my hand. “Five million.”

A collective gasp echoes in the room and my eyes nearly go blind from the incessant camera flashes on my face.

I ignore them and focus on the auctioneer instead.

He nods. “Five million to Mr. Anderson. Going once?”

I hold my breath.

“Twice.”

My fingers curl around Nova’s cuff link.

“And sold!”

The air rushes out from my lungs and I look down, sliding open the cuff link, revealing the beautiful hummingbird with the red chest.

My eyes burn and nose prickle. A lump forms rapidly in my throat.

People congratulate me for winning such a rare treasure, but I can barely hear them. I’m underwater. Drowning in front of them.

I’d give away my entire fortune to have her back. Because there’s no greater treasure to me than the woman lying in the hospital.

Wordlessly, I stand, holding the journal close to my chest, and a Sotheby’s assistant rushes up to greet me. It’s something I arranged in advance—not part of their normal process, but then again, the Anderson name lets me get away with many things.

I click a few buttons on my phone, transferring the money into their account, and show him the screen. The assistant murmurs a few words and listens to his earpiece, no doubt confirming the receipt of funds.

“Congratulations, Mr. Anderson.”

He unlocks the case and hands me the coin.

I hold it up and he stands in front of me, ready to take the photo I requested.

“Do you want to stand in the middle, sir?”

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