The Ring He Was Never Supposed to Wear

CHAPTER 1 - The Ring in the Child’s Palm

"Where did you find this?"

Mara Ellison heard her own voice shake.

The banquet hall was full of soft music and polite laughter, but all she could see was the gold ring resting in the little girl's hands.

The engraving inside the ring was still clear.

Forever Yours.

Mara's fingers closed around it before she could stop herself.

Thomas Reed.

The name hit her like a blow.

"Ma'am," the girl had said carefully, "Dad said this belongs to you."

Mara stared at her. "Your dad?"

The child nodded. "He wears it every day."

Mara's mouth went dry. Thomas had been dead for five years. She had seen the fire, the smoke, the report, the closed casket. She had buried the ring herself in a velvet box and refused to open it again.

"What's your father's name?" she whispered.

"Thomas Reed," the girl said brightly, as if it were the most ordinary answer in the world.

Mara's knees threatened to give out.

Then the girl pointed toward the dark glass doors at the far end of the hall.

"Look. He's outside."

Mara turned so fast her necklace twisted against her throat.

A man stood beyond the doors in a black suit, half-shadowed by the night. He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Still as stone.

And he was smiling at her.