Sophia wiped her eyes. “Thank you. You’d think I’d be all cried out.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being emotional about this. I mean, you were just saying a few weeks ago that you didn’t want to get to know any parents other than the great people who raised you, and if you still feel that way, then you have my support. If you’ve changed your mind, then I’ll support that too.”
Sophia shrugged. “I don’t know what I want.”
Derek’s grinned. “Then don’t decide right now—there’s no rush.”
Leaning into her husband’s embrace, Sophia crooned, “Whatever I did to deserve you is beyond me. Thank you—for everything.”
With her head under his chin, Derek sighed. His only desire was for Sophia to be happy. Lingering in the pit of his stomach was the feeling of trepidation. He worried that by engaging in that conversation, he’d set her up for more disappointment. The last thing he desired for his wife was heartache. She’d already had too much.
The Rossi’s were wonderful, loving parents, and there was a part of Derek that wished he’d hung up on Sophia’s birth mother before the conversation even started.
Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princes who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.
—Rainer Maria Rilke
During dinner, Francis offered Tony and Phil clothes. It seemed that over the years, a large accumulation of items had been left and stored away on the island; these clothes would suffice until ones more to their liking could be ordered and sent into town. Mumbling under her breath, Claire mentioned, “I was planning on ordering some, but a call changed my mind.”
The only person who heard her comment was the man at her side. Truthfully, he was the only one she wanted to hear. With a table of onlookers, Tony didn’t verbally respond; however, he did reach over and squeeze her hand.
After dinner, Francis and Madeline left Tony, Claire, and Phil alone, and Tony explained his current status. He told Claire about the questioning and the FBI’s ultimatum. He explained how he’d been instructed to stay in contact with the bureau otherwise he’d be considered a fugitive—based on charges of domestic battery.
Claire shook her head vehemently. “No! That’s not what I said to Evergreen. I told him I was running, but not from you! I never said anything about pressing charges.”
“I know.” Tony didn’t sound upset. This wasn’t new territory to any of them; they all knew Claire and Tony’s history. “Roach told me what you said to Evergreen. It’s some ploy of theirs—Brent said it was to get more information.”
“Brent?” Claire asked. “Do Brent and Courtney know the truth? Do they know we’re all right?”
Tony shook his head. “No. It’s safer for them that way.”
Claire lowered her eyes and looked at her lap. She understood; however, it didn’t lessen the pain of knowing she’d lied to her closest friends—again.
Tony described how Eric helped him leave the United States, and how he traveled around Europe. When he talked about specific stops along his journey, they were shocked to learn how close their paths had been. Tony also asked questions. How did Claire find the island? Where exactly were they? Had Claire been in contact with anyone since arriving?
Claire deferred some of his questions to Phil, while she responded to others. “I haven’t been in contact with anyone. I do have a non-traceable phone Phil left here, and I have Har...a number for an FBI contact.”
Tony sat straighter and looked at Phil. Speaking to no one in particular, Phil asked, “Is that my cue to leave this discussion?”
Claire answered first, “No, you know the answers to more of his questions than I do, but before you two discuss the coordinates of our location, I should tell you, Tony, I saw Harry in Italy.”
“So did I”—his voice lowered a pitch—“He told me he’d been with you. Actually, he showed me a picture.”
“A picture!?”—Claire stood—“What sort of picture did he show you? And what are you, or was he, implying—with him? I saw him—I wasn’t with him!”
Tony reached out and took her hand. The hardness she’d heard seconds before disappeared as his thumb rubbed the top of her hand. “It wasn’t anything—just confirmation he’d seen you.”
“Well, did he tell you that he’s a FBI agent? I didn’t get the impression it was a recent change in profession.”
Tony nodded. “He did. Apparently, he’s supposed to be my contact.” Grinning again, he added, “I’m not supposed to leave Switzerland without contacting him first.”
Phil interjected, “Damn”—also with a smile—“I knew we forgot to do something.”