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Biddy points to the woman in the doorway. “Who’s she?”

“I don’t know yet,” I tell her.

“Was she Mommy’s friend?”

“She may have been.”

Babs turns the photograph over and reads the final word aloud. “Hope.”

Biddy looks up at me. “What does hope mean?”

I glance at Celeste’s smile in the picture. “It means believing good things can still happen when you don’t know what comes next.”

Biddy considers my answer before hugging the music box against her chest. “I like hope.”

“So did your mother.”

Her smile widens, and she carries the music box toward the living room with Babs beside her. Sprout follows because he refuses to miss any event involving attention.

Mara waits until they’re gone before looking at the photograph again. “You’ll show Emma.”

“I planned to.”

“She may notice what we’re missing.”

“You sound confident.”

“Emma watches people while you study evidence, and you need both.”

I return my attention to the woman in the doorway. The auburn hair, Haven House, and Celeste’s notebook create another possible path toward Nora Bell, and the message on the back suggests the sender expects me to follow it.

The parcels are more than keepsakes. Each one leads toward the next piece of Celeste’s life, and whoever chose them understands exactly where the trail ends.

Emma enters my office shortly after eight with three folders tucked beneath one arm and a coffee balanced against the top one. The cup slides as she crosses the threshold, and I catch it before it reaches the floor.

She tightens her grip on the folders. “I would’ve saved it.”

“You were half a step from wearing it.”

“I’ve survived worse mornings.”

I place the coffee on my desk before she attempts another balancing act.

Her hair is twisted into a loose knot, though several honey blond strands have escaped around her face.

Her gaze shifts toward the conference table, where the parcel contents lie beside Celeste’s notebook and the earlier photograph. “Another delivery came?”

“This morning.”

She sets the folders down and approaches the table. “Did the girls see it?”

“They recognized the music.”

Emma opens the box and listens to the melody. “They remembered this?”

“Biddy did, and Babs decided she did once her sister spoke.”

“That sounds about right.”