As they sorted through trunks of old clothes and boxes of forgotten toys, they found other photos, letters tied with ribbons, vacation postcards, and her great-grandfather’s war medals. Each item was a piece of the puzzle that was Harper’s heritage.
“I didn’t know Granddad kept all these,” Harper murmured, holding a medal to the light. “He never talks about what his dad did during the war.”
Owen looked at the heavy medal. “People keep memories tucked away for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes they’re just too painful to bring out into the open.”
They continued working in silence, sorting through more pieces of her grandparent’s life. Owen found it grounding. It connected him to Harper, to her family’s history, and deepened the bond that had formed between them.
Carrie, who’d been working in another part of the house, joined them in the attic. “I found these in the back of the linen closet,” she said, showing them a small box. “They were gifts your father gave me, Harper. I think it’s time they were out in the world again, not hidden away.”
The box contained simple pieces of jewelry. A locket, a bracelet with pretty charms, and a pair of delicate earrings. Harper held each piece with a tender curiosity. “Why were they in the linen closet?”
Carrie took a deep breath, her gaze lingering on the items with a mixture of fondness and regret. “After your father and I separated, it felt wrong to wear them,” she explained, her voice betraying her bittersweet memories. “They represented a time that was filled with dreams of what we thought our life together would be. When things fell apart, the jewelry became a reminder of what we lost.”
She ran her fingers over the locket, its surface dulled by time. “I couldn’t bear to get rid of them, but I also couldn’t keep them close. So, I gave them to your nana to look after, hoping that one day, I’d want to wear them again.”
Harper looked up at her mother. “And you think it’s time now?”
Carrie shook her head. “Not for me. Would you like them? Or maybe, when you’re ready, you could pass them on to someone special.”
Harper picked up the locket, her thumb brushing over the engraving. “I think I’ll wear them. They’re beautiful.”
The decision seemed to lift a weight from Carrie’s shoulders. When she smiled, there was gratitude and perhaps a hint of an apology for what her divorce had meant for her daughter.
After Harper fastened the locket around her neck, she touched her mom’s arm. “Would you mind if I looked for Dad again?”
Carrie didn’t seem surprised by the question. “We couldn’t find him the last time we looked.”
“There are a lot more databases now. Dad couldn’t have fallen off the face of the earth. He has to be somewhere.”
Owen cleared his throat. “I could help. We regularly had to find missing people in Detroit. Most of the resources we used can be accessed by the public—you just have to know where to look.”
Harper looked expectantly at her mom. “What do you think?”
Carrie hugged her daughter. “I think you should follow your heart. If that means we look for your dad again, then that’s fine by me.”
As they moved to the last area of the attic, Owen told Harper and her mom about some of the databases he’d used, the missing people they’d reunited with their family and friends.
While he was answering their questions, he realized how much he’d achieved. How many people’s lives he’d made better simply by doing his job.
And, for the first time in a long while, he was proud of what he’d done.
Chapter24
Aweek later, Harper stood in front of the open fire in her granddad’s house and handed Owen a gift-wrapped package. “This is for you.” When he carefully squeezed the paper, she grinned. “Don’t worry. It won’t bite.”
He held the gift close to his ear and shook it. “It doesn’t rattle, either.”
Harper sighed. “It doesn’t make any noises at all, but it smells nice.” She enjoyed seeing the excitement on Owen’s face, the anticipation of what was inside the unexpected gift. She just wished he’d open it.
With slow and careful movements, he undid the ribbon and pulled off the tape. “I can feel your impatience from here,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Harper rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on her face. “Just open it, Owen.”
Finally, he unfolded the paper to reveal the sweater she’d been knitting. It was a rich, deep blue that matched his eyes, with intricate cable patterns along the arms and chest. The yarn was soft but sturdy, meant to withstand the chill of winter.
Owen’s expression softened as he held up the sweater. “This is amazing. Did you make it?”
“I did. I wanted to give you something special.” A warmth spread through Harper’s chest at his genuine appreciation. “Something you can wear and think of me.”
