Page 62 of A Whisper of Summer Magic

“To Grandma Millie, I believe. It was… about you.” Sarah stopped and looked helplessly at Meghan.

Meghan touched Chloe’s ice-cold fingers. “It… revealed that your being… gifted to us on the front porch at Christmas wasn’t really as random as we’d all thought.”

“Why?”

“I’m looking for the copy of the original birth certificate, but we think—” Sarah broke off.

“Why are you making this so weird?” Chloe looked at all of them. “Just spit it out.”

“Here’s the note.” Sarah handed the note to Chloe, who held it but just stared at Sarah, clearly waiting for more.

“The note was signed ZP,” Meghan added. “I think… we think it might be this woman.”

Meghan nudged her phone screen toward Chloe with the article she’d found about the opera singer.

“Athena Zoe Panopoulos. I know her.”

Meghan felt the ripple of shock roll through her sisters and Chloe grinned at them and sipped her drink.

“Well, I know of her of course. She’s a rippingly famous and beautiful opera singer. An English lord fell in love with her, and she lives in a castle with him and produces opera over the summers and mentors a few opera singers throughout the year, but she still performs. I worked with her a few times, once at a youth singing workshop in Charlotte. Grandma Millie brought me. I was shocked I got accepted as I was two years younger than the youngest singer ’cause you’re not really supposed to start classically training until fourteen—sixteen’s better. I was nearly twelve, but she said I sang like an… angel. She… cried.”

Chloe sucked in a breath, and then another. “You think I was… she was… I was chosen for the workshop because she was my… mom?”

“Um… yes,” Meghan said, not feeling as certain as she’d like to be, even though earlier in the week she’d been unable to think about anything else.

“But you do sing like an angel,” Jessica said quickly.

“I wanted to reach out to her to be certain,” Meghan continued, staying calm, “because I’m all about facts, but it’s not fair to you because I don’t… we don’t know what you want to… do… if anything with the information.”

“I want to see her. I want to find out.” Chloe jumped up like she was going to race off the patio at that moment and book a ticket to the UK. “I’m getting married soon. I want to contact her.”

“Okay. Okay,” Jessica said and stood making a swishing motion with her hand, and Meghan wasn’t quite sure what it meant. “Okay,” Jessica said. “That’s good. We can discuss. Make a plan. Not tonight, but…”

“No. Tonight. It has to be tonight. I’m getting married next month in Grandma Millie’s garden with my sisters and friends, but I won’t have Grandma Millie, and your parents hate me and I never knew why, and I don’t know why a famous opera singer would choose Grandma Millie’s house except it’s so beautiful and inviting, and she probably thought I’d be safe there and I’m so lucky, but I want my mom to come.”

All of them reeled at that outburst.

“If… if she wants.” The words were uncertain, and Chloe sounded more like a ten-year-old rather than an award-winning teacher.

Meghan figured Jessica would recover the quickest, but she was wrong.

“Yes, yes.” Meghan tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice when she was feeling as emotionally drained as Jessica and Sarah looked. “Yes. We can… do some research. She must have an agent or manager where we could send an email.”

The woman would think they were cranks. She probably wouldn’t even get it, and then how would Chloe feel?

“A month for the wedding?” Jessica gulped. “That’s not a lot of time to contact… Athena Zoe, Chloe.”

For the first time Meghan heard the rhyme.

“She may not want contact, Chloe,” Sarah said gently. “You may want to wait a little. Think it over. Proceed with caution.”

“I’m getting married in a month,” Chloe insisted, practically vibrating with tension. “If that’s okay. We can do it at the courthouse and host a small reception at the Wild Side if it’s too much trouble for y’all.”

“No trouble at all.” All three of them spoke at the same time and stood in front of her in a line like they were in front of a one-woman firing squad.

“And don’t worry,” Chloe said. “She’ll want to come. She’ll want to see me.”

“She will?” Jessica echoed. She grabbed her drink and downed it. “I just don’t want you hurt,” she defended when Chloe glared.

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