“What does that have to do with me?”
“The witness used a false name.”
“What name?”
Niko studied my face.
“Eveina.”
The room became impossibly quiet.
“My name?”
“Yes.”
“That could be a coincidence.”
“It could.”
“But you don’t believe it is.”
“No.”
I held the front of my dress with numb fingers.
“Who was she?”
“We don’t know. There are no photographs, no address, and no record of her after the night your mother died.”
“Then how do you know she existed?”
“Because your mother wrote about her in a letter.”
“To whom?”
Niko’s expression shifted.
“To my father.”
I stared at him.
Before either of us could speak again, a knock sounded from the hallway.
Three deliberate taps.
Niko’s entire posture changed.
He opened the main door only a few inches.
A man spoke quietly outside.
Niko listened.
“What is it?” I asked.
He did not answer immediately.
