Caleb burst into laughter.
She narrowed her eyes.
He removed two train tickets.
Hannah blinked.
“Train tickets?”
“Milwaukee. Next Saturday.”
She looked confused.
“Why Milwaukee?”
“There's a Deaf arts festival. Good food. A photography exhibition.”
Hannah studied him.
“I want to spend a weekend with you where nobody asks about a trust dispute.”
“That's the most romantic thing you've ever said.”
Caleb raised his eyebrows.
“Then will you come?”
Hannah stepped closer.
They kissed beneath the courtyard lights.
Nothing dramatic.
No audience waiting for a grand announcement.
Just two people who had found one another in a room where someone had mistaken silence for an absence of thought.
When they separated, Caleb smiled.
Hannah's eyes filled.
She signed back:
“I love you too.”
He looked down for a moment.
Then gave a small, astonished smile.
Hannah laughed.
He shook his head.
She raised an eyebrow.
His expression softened.
“I just like knowing I can say exactly what I feel.”
Hannah kissed his cheek.
“You always could.”
They stood together until Lena approached.
Her expression was unusually serious.
“There's something you need to see.”
Hannah looked toward her.
“What happened?”
Lena hesitated.
“An archivist located additional material while digitizing the original Bridge House records.”
“What material?”
“A second video file.”
His expression changed.
“From my mother?”
For several seconds, Caleb couldn't move.
The original recording had been made before Elena died.
They'd watched it together months earlier.
Its message had helped establish the purpose of Bridge House and prompted Dominic to confront his failures as a father.
But a second recording?
Caleb took a breath.
“When was it made?”
Lena looked down.
“That's what concerns me.”
Hannah frowned.
“The digital record carries a date that doesn't match the history we have.”
Caleb's heartbeat quickened.
Lena hesitated.
“Three years after your mother's death.”
The courtyard suddenly felt very quiet.
“My mother died thirteen years ago.”
He looked toward her.
“Then the date is wrong.”
She took a careful breath.
“But the archivist says the recording was preserved in an independent collection from a community organization outside Illinois.”
Hannah looked between them.
“What organization?”
“Northstar Community Services.”
He'd never heard of it.
Lena continued.
“The archive was included in records transferred during a nonprofit merger.”
Caleb swallowed.
“Have you watched it?”
His expression changed.
Lena looked toward him.
“I think you should decide whether you want to.”
For several seconds, Caleb remained still.
Then he nodded.
They walked into the newly renovated conference room.
Hannah sat beside Caleb.
Lena connected a laptop to the large screen.
Dominic entered after Caleb agreed to include him.
The mafia boss looked confused.
“What's happening?”
Lena explained the situation through the interpreter.
Dominic's face changed.
“A video dated after Elena died?”
“That doesn't make sense.”
Caleb looked toward him.
“That's why we're watching.”
The room became quiet.
Lena opened the file.
At first, the screen showed an empty conference room.
A wooden table.
An old filing cabinet.
The image was grainy.
The lighting poor.
Then a woman entered.
She had shoulder-length dark brown hair.
A dark blue coat.
And a silver ring on her right hand.
Caleb stopped breathing.
Hannah noticed immediately.
He leaned forward.
The woman turned toward the camera.
Her face became clearer.
Dominic stood abruptly.
His voice was barely audible.
The woman looked astonishingly like Elena Vale.
Same slight curve of the eyebrows.
But she looked older than she had in the earlier recording.