Caroline: The Evangeline Series, #5

By Astrid Aurelius

Caroline Delaney has the perfect life.

She and her husband, Jack, run a successful art and antiques brokerage. They live in an amazing, historic brownstone in Brooklyn. And they are both eager to start a family.

But Caroline's lost memories from a recent accident on her husband's freighter ship is a constant source of frustration.

And the strange dreams she's been having lately about a woman named Sam have vexed her.

When she meets a beautiful—but crazy—man who claims to have an explanation for her lost memories, she has to decide if he's telling the truth, or if she's the victim of a cruel deception as their worlds collide. What is real?

•••

Ben is doing everything he possibly can to not fall apart in the aftermath of Sam's kidnapping.

He's prepared to leave no resource untapped to track her down and take her back from Henry, as he promised.

His persistence knows no limits when it comes to reuniting with his wife. But when he gets arrested for Sam's murder—her decomposed body having been found in a rural Maryland field—his hopes are shattered into a million pieces and he loses his will to live.

Until his dad and grandfather visit him in prison, bringing him news that Sam's death may not be what it seemed. That's the catalyst he needs to renew his determination.

•••

Is Ben able to bring Sam back; not only for himself, but for her? Will Henry finally be brought to justice? Find out in the thrilling conclusion of The Evangeline Series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Astrid Aurelius
• Release date: May 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798985536355

Astrid Aurelius

I have been writing casually for years and first discovered a love of writing my senior year in high school. When I went to college, I continued writing in English classes required by my degree plan, which I enjoyed, but opted to major in Accounting because, you know, Accountants have stable careers. I eventually became a CPA…and taught myself how to drink whiskey—those two things might be related. My writing style is pretty conversational; I don’t take myself too seriously. I enjoy writing about things I know like hiking, drinking wine, and being socially awkward. I prefer to write long-hand and type it up later and have been known to write in the bathtub with a full glass of wine handy. I live in Round Rock, Texas with my husband, two kids, and two geriatric pups.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Ben sat in silence in the helicopter. A black bag covered his head once more, his wrists zip tied together behind his back. The rotors roared so loud he couldn’t hear what was happening around him. His mind played his goodbye with Sam on a loop, and every time he remembered the hopeful look in her eyes as they escorted him away from her, his skin felt cold.

I have to find her. No matter what it takes.

The helicopter made a sharp descent, and a moment later they ripped the hood off his head. "Time to go!" shouted one of the masked men riding in the seat opposite him.

Ben glanced around, seeing two other large masked men as well. He felt a surge of adrenaline as he recognized the outline of Baxter HQ through the window, illuminated like a beacon in the night.

They threw open the door closest to him as the helicopter hovered mere feet above the black asphalt parking lot. His eyes fell on Sam’s car where he left it the night they took him, and a lump swelled in his throat. Then, hands on his shoulders pushed him out the door, as someone shouted, "Tuck and roll!" followed by a laugh.

He fell hard onto the pavement, landing on his side, his shoulder and hip taking the brunt of the impact. His dark hair whipped around his face as he watched the black helicopter disappear into the night sky.

Shaking and cold, he rose to his knees, staring at Sam’s car, then scanned the otherwise empty parking lot to see if anyone had witnessed what had just happened. A moment later, what looked like the entire Baxter security staff came pouring out the doors of the building and ran to him. They were speaking, shouting, gasping, as they grabbed his arms and helped him to his feet. The noisy din of their voices overwhelmed his ears, and he wished for silence. They removed the zip tie, and he rubbed his wrists, drawing inward to his racing thoughts. His mind played a tug-of-war between strategizing ways to search for and find The Crocodile’s ship; to holding Sam for what might have been the last time; to thanking his security team; to wanting to break down and scream.

His feet moved mechanically as they ushered him into the building, sitting him on one of the leather chairs in the plush reception area in the foyer. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands as he heard someone shout, "Call 911, dammit!" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; when he opened them, they fell on the medal and rings dangling from Sam’s necklace.

Vaguely aware that concerned onlookers surrounded him, he took another deep breath as he wrapped his fingers around the precious metal that pulled his focus. I need some space, please.

Then Max—the security team lead—instructed the others to return to their posts. In that moment, he felt that any strength he ever had evaporated, and he didn’t try to stop the tears that fell from his eyes or the sobs that burst from his mouth. His large shoulders sagged and shook as he brought the necklace to his mouth, as if the rings still rested on Sam’s fingers and he would have felt her skin, soft and warm, touch his lips.

He sank back into the chair, still clutching the necklace. Eyes squeezed shut, he tuned out all the surrounding activity. He was brought out of himself when a hand squeezed his. He opened his eyes and saw his grandfather crouched next to the chair, looking older than he had the last time Ben saw him.

Ben? John’s wet brown eyes searched Ben’s face with concern and unspoken feeling.

The moment Ben registered his grandfather’s presence, he stood. John rose to face him, and they embraced. Ben’s tears ran anew and his grandfather’s hands pressed against his back as he said. Thank God! I’m so glad you’re okay; thank God.

Minutes later, John told Ben a team of paramedics had arrived to examine him and make sure he was okay. Ben refused at first, insisting he was fine, but eventually consented at John’s urging.

John grasped Ben’s arm until they stepped into his office, followed by two paramedics, Max, and another security associate. The paramedics spent the next twenty minutes monitoring Ben’s vitals and checking for signs of shock or head injury as he sat in a leather chair opposite the blue sofa.

When the medics finished, they announced everything appeared normal, but asked Ben if he had concerns. He shook his head and thanked them, then John asked Max to please escort them down.

Ben stood from the chair and approached his desk. His eyes fell on a framed picture of Sam and himself from their honeymoon in Peru: a selfie they took with Machu Picchu in the background.

Your dad will be here in the morning. He’s been worried sick…we’ve all been worried sick.

Ben raised his eyes to his grandfather. How long have I been gone? He had a guess, but wanted confirmation.

A week, John said. They took you last Friday. It’s now early Saturday.

Ben nodded. It was The Crocodile, Grandpa. He’s alive. And he has Sam.

John approached Ben. Did you see her?

Yes. He swallowed hard, once more remembering the fear in her eyes as she begged Henry not to shoot him. She’s alive. I don’t think he wants to kill her, but he intends to keep her. Ben paused. I have to get her back. He choked on the words, fighting the urge to break down again.

Of course. We’ll do whatever it takes to find her. John took an audible breath. You should know…the Agency is aware that The Crocodile is alive. I told them the day after they took you.

Ben looked at his grandfather, puzzled. How did you know it was him?

John then explained that Dmitri saw Sam on the ship after being summoned by Henry. He also told the history he and Dmitri had with Lydia and Henry, as well as his regrets surrounding Henry’s ability to grow his enterprise unchecked. He confessed that he was the source who tipped off Mossad about The Crocodile’s home base in the Cayman Islands.

Ben listened in shock.

The Crocodile’s movements had been more closely monitored than I imagined.

Damn, Ben said. That’s…

The lines on John’s face deepened and Ben knew his grandfather feared Ben’s reaction.

I… Ben started, I understand. You were in a lose-lose situation, Grandpa. You couldn’t take action without risking your livelihood and the livelihood of so many others. Then he remembered how miraculous it seemed when the tip came in regarding The Crocodile’s property in the Cayman Islands. You seized the first opportunity you could to stop him. His mind circled back to what he said about Dmitri and Sam. So, they brought Dmitri to the ship, and he saw Sam?

Yes, John replied after a moment’s delay.

Ben was quiet, wondering why Henry would bring Dmitri aboard; a man he hadn’t done business with in years, based on what his grandfather had just described. But, with a pang, he remembered the Twitter post applauding the woman—who happened to be Sam—who had publicly rejected Dmitri’s inappropriate advances.

"Hang on…did Dmitri explain why he was there?"

John sighed. Yes.

And why was he there? Ben wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Son, knowing that won’t make this any easier… John shook his head, the lines around his eyes deepened.

Ben’s chest heaved, and he struggled to breathe as if a thousand pound weight was pressed against him. Did he…? Did she…did they…?

"No! John answered with emphasis. They did not. John grabbed Ben’s shoulders. They did not do that," he repeated.

Ben’s despair eased only a little. Is Henry offering Sam to other men? He shoved his fingers into his hair, his mind going to a terrible, dark place. Perhaps Dmitri declined, but what about others?

Minutes later, security escorted a middle-aged woman with dark bronze skin wearing a gray pant suit into Ben’s office, but Ben slowly paced behind his desk, trying to silence his tormented thoughts.

Ben. This is FBI Special Agent Octavia Woods, John said, which prompted Ben to hesitate in his step, turning to face her.

She approached and held out a hand to shake, and Ben obliged.

I don’t want to take up much of your time. She pulled out a small notebook. I’m certain you’re eager to get home. I’d just like to get an initial statement from you about what happened. She looked at John for a moment, then her eyes returned to Ben. It’s been brought to my attention that The Crocodile was responsible for your abduction.

Ben was running on fumes and didn’t want to discuss it, but he wanted to be cooperative. He sighed and sat at his desk, inviting her to take the chair opposite him. Then he described the entire ordeal. She asked questions about certain events, and Ben answered, elaborating as necessary. After describing Henry giving Sam the ultimatum, he offered to work with a sketch artist to capture the faces of the men in the room doing Henry’s bidding. Then, with a jolt, he remembered Kevin. He resolved to verify whether he’d made it home as soon as possible.

Special Agent Woods looked up from her notebook and focused on Ben. Then her eyes dropped to the necklace he wore; Sam’s necklace. This must be very hard for you. Her tone seemed to convey genuine compassion.

He took a deep breath. It is. But, I’ll find her. I have to. He felt tears pooling in his eyes as he spoke the words. I’ll find her.

Special Agent Woods responded with a sympathetic smile. I believe this is enough information for me to open a case for her disappearance. Is it alright if I call with questions?

Yes. He turned in his chair, looking for the business cards he kept somewhere. He found them in a drawer in the wall unit behind his desk and handed one to her. Of course. Please call if you have any questions.

Chapter 2

Ben went home and collapsed onto his bed. He tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come. All he could think about was Sam. When he finally gave up on trying to rest, he took a shower and shaved his face. With a towel wrapped around his hips, he stepped into his closet and opened a drawer to retrieve a pair of boxer briefs when his eyes fell on the leather-bound photo album Sam had given him for Christmas. He reached for it, but stopped himself and slammed the drawer shut.

Back in his bedroom, he found his favorite Navy t-shirt and lounge pants draped on the chair in the corner. He put them on and stepped out of his room onto the staircase landing. Someone was working in the kitchen. Dad? he called as he trudged down the stairs. Sitting at his kitchen island drinking coffee was his grandfather, and hard at work at the stove was Alexander.

Without a word, Alexander abandoned whatever he was preparing, as soon as Ben appeared, and clutched him into a tight hug. Ben. The emotion in his voice unhidden. I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.

Ben took a deep breath and tried to keep it together as best he could. Thanks for coming, Dad.

There wasn’t much else that could be said, so upon releasing the hug, Alexander returned to the stove and Ben sat next to his grandfather.

They ate in silence and afterwards, Ben laid down on the couch while Alexander and John each claimed a chair opposite him. He could feel their eyes on him as he stared at the tall, wood-beamed ceiling

Can I get anything for you? John asked.

Ben shook his head. No, thanks.

The silence continued and Ben felt like he could read his dad and grandpa’s thoughts; they probably didn’t know whether they were helping or harming by being there. But he was glad they were there. He didn’t want to be alone.

He kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, knowing if he looked around, he would see traces of Sam everywhere.

Her violin case sitting on the end of the dining room table, next to a book of classical violin arrangements.

Framed pictures of the two of them together on almost any flat surface.

The large picture of Jackson Square hanging on the wall.

Son… Alexander started, then faltered. If you need time away… he hesitated, you can come home…for as long as you need.

Ben’s eyes moved in an arc and landed on the olive tree. He stood and walked to the kitchen sink, filling a pitcher with water, then returned to the tree, pouring the contents into the pot. He watched the soil absorb the water quickly, a sign that it was dried out, and he repeated the process two more times until healthy moisture had been restored. Neither his dad nor his grandfather knew about the miscarriage, and for a moment he pondered telling them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He glanced at them, finding them both watching him. No thanks, Dad; I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and focus on finding Sam.

John and Alexander exchanged glances again, then his dad spoke. Of course. Maybe you can stay with Grandpa.

Ben touched a leaf on the olive tree. The glossy green surface distracted him for a moment as he pondered the offer. He took a breath. I’m okay.

If you change your mind, just let us know, Alexander said.

He looked at them sideways and nodded, considering the possibility that he might change his mind eventually.

Ben was glad they were there, but he didn’t know what to do with them or himself. He didn’t know how to move or breathe with the gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be. Then he remembered Kevin again. He excused himself to go upstairs and found Sam’s phone where he’d left it on her bedside table.

He unlocked it with her passcode. There were missed calls from Everett and Theresa, which struck him with a fresh wave of loss, remembering the last time he spoke to them. He’d call them soon to let them know he’d seen her. He also saw a missed reminder for crab shack, which he knew was code for a check-in with her assets in Baltimore. He cussed, realizing the case would have to be reassigned, but that was a matter for another day.

He tapped on the contact list and found Kevin’s name. He held the phone to his ear as it rang.

Hullo? a woman’s voice answered. Sam?

Aoife.

Hey, Aoife. It’s Ben. He paused, trying to buy himself a moment to figure out what to say. Is Kevin around?

With audible distress she explained she hadn’t seen Kevin in over a week; that he just vanished, leaving his phone, his keys, everything behind. Then she asked if Sam might know where he’d gone.

Ben swallowed a lump. This won’t be an easy conversation. Listen…this is going to sound crazy… he started, his voice cracking through the pain and trauma of having to run it through his mind again. Kevin was abducted. I saw him, because they took me, too. If he’s not back by now, he should be soon.

What? she breathed. "Abducted? What do you— There was a muffled rustling noise through the phone. Is this some kind of joke?"

If only…

It’s not a joke. Ben clenched his jaw.

Who took him? And why? Why take Kevin? Aoife’s voice broke.

Ben didn’t see the point in telling her, so he repeated the last thing he said. He should be back soon. We were released at the same time. When he gets back, please have him call me.

You’re not making any sense. Why would anyone take Kevin? She sounded like she was holding back a flood of tears.

He closed his eyes, sympathizing with her outrage and despair. Please have him call me when he returns.

What if he never returns? She sobbed into the phone.

Ben sighed, praying that Henry didn’t break his word to Sam regarding Kevin’s safety. If he’s not back in two days…call me.

Aoife sniffled. Alright. Alright.

Thanks, Aoife. Ben tapped the end call button. Hearing how Aoife fell apart brought a renewed surge of pain to his chest, knowing he was dangerously close to falling apart as well.

The lock screen on Sam’s phone refreshed, and he stared at the picture displayed, which she took of them. Ben remembered the moment: they were sitting on the couch downstairs one Saturday morning around Christmas, drinking coffee and talking. He had told her a potty humor joke that made her laugh, and she responded by telling him a really dirty joke that both shocked and amused him. Ben was laughing hard when she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, capturing the moment with a selfie.

His eyes stung as he looked at the picture and he felt so alone. He clenched his jaw and focused on her eyes. I will find you, Sam. God help me, I’ll find you.

Chapter 3

Sunday morning at 4:00 a.m., Ben once more gave up on trying to sleep and pulled himself out of bed. He bound down the stairs to the bottom floor of his building, bursting through the doors with only one destination in mind.

Within minutes, he was inside a different building in his neighborhood; across the street and a few blocks down. He studied the names on the call box, then ran a quick search on social media for a name he recognized. Thanking his lucky stars that the DC fashion influencer lived in the building, he greeted the doorman, telling him he was there to surprise his girlfriend, slipping the man a fifty-dollar bill to help grease the hinges. The doorman pocketed the cash without hesitation and Ben was in.

Ben had always found social engineering to be pretty effective. Adding in a little bribery increased its efficacy.

Moments later, he knocked on the door of his destination, then shoved his hands in his pockets, fearing if he didn’t, he would throttle Pravin the second he saw him. Guilty by association.

The door opened a crack. Yes? Pravin’s drowsy voice greeted him.

We need to talk.

Ben? Pravin’s tone was incredulous, but he wisely swung the door open. Right. Sorry. Come in.

Ben stepped inside, a million thoughts and emotions swirling around inside him as he stalked into Pravin’s living room.

Bloody hell! When did you get back? Your abduction was all anyone could talk about. And Sam’s dis—

Did you know? Ben barked, rounding on Pravin.

Did I know what? Pravin’s forehead creased.

Fury bubbled in Ben’s gut, and he ran a rough hand through his hair. Pravin, I swear to God if you’re screwing with me—

"Did I know what?" Pravin repeated with a snarl.

Your dad is alive, Ben raised his voice. He took… He started, but his words petered out as tears rushed to his eyes without warning. He took Sam.

Pravin stood stock still, blinking. He hung his head, putting his hands on his hips, and sighed. After muttering something, he stepped over to his modern leather sofa and sat, covering his face with his hands. He was dead. He paused. Wasn’t he?

Ben paced back and forth, his fists clenched at his sides. Apparently not. He wondered how Henry faked his death.

Pravin cussed and pressed his hands against his temples. I didn’t know. Honest. I didn’t know. I didn’t want to believe it…back when it happened.

Do you know how to contact him? Half desperate, half hopeful, Ben wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

I haven’t tried in months. Pravin shook his head, his eyes wide. I still remember the last time I spoke to him…he sounded…different. And when he died, it made sense. It was as if he was saying goodbye without saying goodbye.

Ben raked a hand down his face. His exasperation was a ticking time-bomb in his chest. Can you try now?

Peering up at Ben, Pravin blinked. Well, yes. But… Pravin paused for several moments, doubt and concern all over his face.

But what, Pravin? Ben clenched his teeth.

I…I’m sorry, I just…. Pravin’s mouth was agape and his eyes went unfocused. What if he answers? What if he doesn’t? Is this real? Or can you be mistaken somehow?

I’m absolutely not mistaken.

Pravin pulled a hand down his face. If he’s alive, it seems unlikely he would have kept the same number, but…I’ll try.

Running another hand through his hair, Ben continued pacing, afraid that if he stopped moving, he would crumble and lose his focus. He couldn’t risk that right now. Sam was depending on him. Please, Pravin. Let’s just check the box.

Pravin nodded and picked up his phone. He put the phone to his ear after he tapped on the screen.

What felt like an eternity passed when Pravin pulled the phone away. His eyes pivoted up to Ben, who could hear the standard recording explaining that the number was no longer in service. He cussed.

The ship. What can you tell me about it?

Virtually nothing, Pravin said. I’ve never even seen the exterior.

How long has your dad had it? Ben’s words were clipped and impatient.

No idea…

Was it part of your mother’s inheritance from Phillip?

Pravin’s face twisted. How do you know about Phillip? His eyes followed Ben as he paced.

Ben stopped and dropped into a chair opposite Pravin. He ran a hand through his hair again as his leg bounced. Believe it or not, our families have history. My grandfather and Phillip were friends.

Pravin’s eyes dropped to the floor. It’s possible, he started, then paused. My mum might have information about it.

Pravin then told Ben about all the paperwork his dad had to sign when they established an anonymous trust. He remembered his father mentioned a freighter ship when he was summarizing the multitude of assets Phillip had, which were being transferred into the trust.

I assume my father kept the papers with him when he returned to London. He and my mum planned to sell off the assets, so they needed an inventory of what that was.

Ben stopped moving for the first time since arriving at Pravin’s apartment. Would she still have the papers after all this time? Ben held his breath.

Pravin didn’t respond, but tapped on the screen of his phone several times, bringing it to his ear. Hi, Mum. Are you at home?

Chapter 4

Henry sat by Caroline’s side. She woke up three days ago, but the doctor wanted to keep her under observation to ensure she was okay.

She always seemed happy to see him when he stopped in to monitor her progress. The second day he came into the recovery room, she reached out with a smile, saying, Jack! It caught him off guard, but it pleased him that the doctor’s process seemed to have worked so well.

He approached and took her hands.

How are you feeling? His eyes roamed over her face, lingering on her hair. Her thick, dark blonde hair previously rested past her shoulder blades, but now it brushed the tops of her shoulders. Henry had plans for the ponytail hidden in his desk drawer.

I feel good. When can I leave? she asked with a gentle squeeze of his hands.

I’ll speak to Dr. Shang and find out. Okay? Henry responded as he released one of her hands and brushed a thumb under her chin.

Yes, please. She smiled, and Henry turned to leave.

Jack?

He spun around to face her.

Come here, she said.

Henry hesitated, feeling a slight nagging that if she were Evangeline, he could be in trouble as he remembered the determination on her face when she had a lamp cord wrapped around his neck. He returned to her with caution. What is it, Caroline?

She sat up straight and leaned toward him, hugging her knees. You haven’t kissed me since I woke up. She reached out and pulled him toward her with a light tug on his shirt.

With a grin, he said, I haven’t? I’m sorry, dear. She closed her eyes, and he pressed his lips to hers. The softness of her lips surprised him and, even more surprising, was feeling her gentle reciprocation. He pulled away and her stormy gray eyes were smiling.

Thank you.

A cough pulled their attention to the door. Dr. Shang and Mr. Chu stood there. Dr. Shang said something and Mr. Chu translated as usual. The doctor would like to check Mrs. Delaney’s vitals.

Of course, Henry responded as he glanced at Caroline. When you’re done, Henry started, focusing on Dr. Shang, I would like to speak to you for a moment.

Mr. Chu translated and Dr. Shang nodded. Henry and Mr. Chu stepped out of the exam room, and peered in through the small window set in the door, watching as Dr. Shang studied the machines monitoring Caroline’s vital signs, before he began his typical circuit of checking her pupils, ears, reflexes, etc.

It appears to have worked as intended. Are you pleased? Mr. Chu asked.

Henry nodded. So far, so good.

What are your plans for her?

Is this a philosophical question? Henry kept his gaze on the woman on the other side of the glass. You already know the details the doctor needed.

I suppose it is. Mr. Chu shrugged.

A smirk tilted Henry’s mouth. I’ve already accomplished the apex of the plan: to punish her and Ben Baxter. To separate them, knowing Baxter is likely wallowing in his self-loathing, also likely preparing to exhaust all of his resources to find her, while she is blissfully unaware of his existence. His tone was casual, as if the topic were innocuous. Then an amused expression transformed his face. It’s rare someone would trade in a young buck for an old one, Henry concluded with a wry chuckle.

I recall the details surrounding a pregnancy loss…a child she dearly wanted. She is young; well within child-bearing years. Do you intend to make her a mother?

Henry thought back to the manufactured minutiae of Caroline’s life, inspired by Evangeline’s own recent miscarriage and how it wounded her. Do I intend? Henry chuckled. Absolutely not. I had a vasectomy years ago. Henry returned his eyes to Caroline through the window, and a moment later her eyes found his, a shy smile on her lips.

If she can’t have a family, then why give her that memory?

Because the hope of having a family and never achieving it will enhance her suffering.

Mr. Chu’s eyebrows collapsed together and Henry felt he could read the man’s thoughts. He likely thought Henry’s cruelty was unbound…and he’d be right, especially with the woman who almost ruined everything. He knew this charade couldn’t last forever, though. The day would eventually come that his amusement surrounding Caroline—Evangeline—would end. And on that day, he would end her suffering.

After several moments of silence, Mr. Chu cleared his throat. I am proud of Dr. Shang’s accomplishment. That his process, which started with a theory, has been successful.

Dr. Shang stepped out of the room, speaking as he walked to his office, beaming and jovial. She is very healthy and I see no signs of reversion, Mr. Chu translated as he and Henry followed. I am very pleased. Dr. Shang opened his liquor drawer and poured a small amount of whiskey into a glass and toasted himself with much adulation.

How much longer does she need to stay under observation? Henry asked.

Dr. Shang poured a little more whiskey in his glass and Mr. Chu translated the question.

She may go now, if you wish, Dr. Shang responded via Mr. Chu. I am satisfied. And I look forward to my next subject. Dr. Shang punctuated the statement by lifting his glass toward Henry, a broad smile brightening his face.

Henry grinned, hopeful that the process would help him be rid of his compulsion at last. He nodded at Dr. Shang. Yes; we have some details to discuss and I have a few logistics to arrange.

Chapter 5

Henry opened the door to his office and ushered Caroline inside. He nodded at Roman before closing the door, then turned, finding Caroline standing before the painting on the wall: The Kidnapping of the Sabine Women.

Dinner will be here soon. Are you hungry?

She turned and looked at him, but didn’t answer the question. You know, I’ve never been as profound an admirer of art as you are, but this painting… She paused. I can look at a painting and think it’s pretty. Or maybe too abstract. Or even wonder how the hell it ended up in a museum, she said with a breathy laugh. But this one…this one makes me feel something. She paused again and her eyes dropped as Henry stepped up beside her. I think it always has. I feel like it always has.

He followed her gaze to the looming figure of Romulus, then swept her shoulder-length hair back from her neck.

She turned her head and smiled.

Are you still struggling with your memories? You hit your head so hard. I was terrified for you, Caroline.

Turning to face him, her eyes dropped again. They get a little clearer each day. Every time you look at me, something new…yet old…comes back.

A knock at the door pulled Henry’s attention. He crossed the room and opened the door, standing aside as a steward pushed a cart inside with a very elaborate-looking dinner presented.

Come. Sit, Henry beckoned to the small dining table under the small round window and she obeyed.

The steward set the table, and at last presented her plate. Under the dish cover was a medium-rare cut of tenderloin, sliced neatly. Chateaubriand, for the missus.

Caroline stared at the plate.

Henry set a glass of red wine in front of her. Is something wrong?

Peering up at him with glassy eyes, she said, Oh, Jack. Chateaubriand is my favorite. This is so sweet. She beamed.

Seeing more evidence of the success of Dr. Shang’s procedure brought a smile to his face. He sat across from her and placed the linen napkin in his lap as he nodded at the steward, who left the cart with a bottle of champagne on ice, two champagne flutes, and another small covered dish.

They started eating, and Caroline lifted her wineglass. Henry focused on his food, but he could feel her watching him. Raising his eyes to hers, he saw she was studying him. Though he was certain the doctor’s procedure worked, he still had a small intrusive fear Evangeline may return at any moment.

Caroline?

She blinked. Hmm?

You have something on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?

I was just thinking about the day we met. I can…I dunno…I can see it, but it’s hazy. Like looking through a dirty window.

Henry blinked, transported back to the visitor’s center at Hampton National Forest, but pushed that from his mind, replacing it with something else. I remember it. How could I forget? He chuckled. Tell me how you remember it. Maybe this will make your memories clearer.

She set her glass down. It was October. The day before Halloween. Her eyes went distant at first, then re-focused on his. I was in New York for a conference and I was staying in Brooklyn. I got up to the street from the subway, but it was pouring down rain and I had no umbrella. So I was hurrying down the sidewalk, getting drenched, trying to get to my hotel. She stopped and smiled. Then, this guy steps out of a coffee shop, right into my path, and I slammed into him. Her eyes danced as she told the story. This poor man was holding a fresh cup of hot coffee, but when I ran into him, the cup exploded, covering both of us. I remember how you apologized to me, even though it was my fault. I think I was too stunned to speak.

Then what? Henry couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he listened.

She leaned her elbows on the table, holding his gaze. You made a joke about hearing that absorbing caffeine through your skin was about the same as drinking it. She laughed, and the sound struck him strangely. Then you introduced yourself to me and I offered to buy you another cup and give you money to pay for your clothes to be cleaned but—

But I asked you out to dinner.

The smile lingered on her face. Yes. And I was so surprised. I assumed you were married, but I did a quick ring check. He followed her eyes to his left hand, where he wore a thin gold band.

Then we exchanged numbers. He sipped his wine. You seem to remember it very well, from my perspective. How long ago was it? He took another small bite of his meal, focusing his eyes on her face.

Bringing a hand to her lips, her brow creased; she appeared thoughtful, straining to remember, perhaps. Three… she started, then shook her head. No. Two-and-a-half years ago?

Henry’s smile stretched his lips, and he felt two deep dimples crater his cheeks. That’s right. Your memory is better than you think, dear. He touched her hand. Tell me what you remember about our first date. That night.

I met you at an Italian place…with a quirky name. I can’t remember it right now—

Noodle Pudding.

Yes! And it was obscenely busy, but you knew the owner, and he saved a table for us.

You were wearing this incredible black dress. I remember thinking how classy you looked.

A deep flush colored her cheeks. While we ate, you made a joke about our names and age difference and I laughed so hard.

That’s right, he interjected. So, Jack and Caroline, I’m sure there’s a twisted Kennedy joke in there somewhere.

That’s exactly what you said. Caroline laughed. It sounds crazy, but that’s how I knew I was going to marry you. A happy sigh rushed from her lips. It’s getting clearer. Thank you for indulging me.

By all means, I love hearing it from you. He pushed his plate away, noticing she hadn’t touched her plate in several minutes. Would you like more wine? Champagne? Or maybe something a little stronger?

I’d love some whiskey. She grinned.

Whiskey makes you mean. He winked.

It does? Her eyes went distant, but after a moment she shrugged.

I have something even better. He stood, holding a hand out to her. Come. She took his hand, and