in constant touch throughout the investigation. When I called her the day after being released from the hospital, she cried across the miles, yelling and blowing her nose and telling me to come home immediately.
“I’m going to stay here, Barbara,” I said softly. Speaking was painful. It jarred my bruised spirit.
“What?” she gasped in the middle of her rant. “Why?”
“Ireland feels like home.”
“It does? But . . . you’re an American citizen. You can’t just live there. And what about your career?”
“I can write from anywhere,” I answered, and I winced. I’d said the same thing to Thomas. “I’ll apply for dual citizenship. My grandfather was born here. My mother was born here too. Citizenship shouldn’t be especially difficult to acquire.” I said the words as if I meant them, but everything felt difficult. Blinking was difficult. Speaking. Staying upright.
“But . . . what about your apartment here? Your things? Your grandfather’s home?”
“The best thing about money, Barbara, is that it makes so many things easier. I can hire someone to handle all of that for me,” I soothed, already desperate to get off the phone.
“Well . . . at least you have property there. Is it livable? Maybe you won’t need to buy a home.”
“What property?” I said wearily. I loved Barbara, but I was so tired. So very tired.
“Harvey mentioned your grandfather owned property there. I just assumed you knew. Haven’t you talked to Harvey?” Harvey Cohen was married to Barbara, and he just so happened to be Eoin’s estate lawyer. It was all a little incestuous, but it was also convenient and streamlined, and Harvey and Barbara were the best at what they did. It made sense to keep it all in-house.
“You know I haven’t talked to him, Barbara.” I hadn’t talked to anyone before I left. I’d shoved everything away, sending emails and leaving messages and avoiding everyone and everything. My heart picked up its pace, thundering clumsily, angry that I was making it move when it was so sore. “Is Harvey there now? If there’s a house, I want to know about it.”
“I’ll get him,” she said. She was quiet for a moment, and I could tell she was moving through her home. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle. “What happened to you, kiddo? Where have you been?”
“I guess I got lost in Ireland,” I murmured.
“Well,” she harrumphed. “Next time you decide to get lost, give the Cohens a heads-up, will you please?” She was back to her salty self when she handed Harvey the phone.
Harvey and Barbara flew to Ireland two days later. Harvey brought all Eoin’s personal papers, our family records, and documents—birth certificates, naturalization and medical records, deeds, wills, and financial statements. He even brought the box of unaddressed letters from Eoin’s desk drawer, stating that Eoin had been adamant that I have them. Eoin had named me executor of the Smith-Gallagher family trust—a trust I knew nothing about—of which I am the sole beneficiary. Garvagh Glebe and her surrounding properties were included in the trust. Thomas was a very wealthy man, he left Eoin a very wealthy man, and Eoin gave it all to me. I would give it all away to have one more day with either of them.
Garvagh Glebe belonged to me now, and I was desperate to return to her, even as I shuddered at the thought of living there alone.
“I’ve made all the calls,” Harvey said, checking his watch and eyeing the list in front of him. “We have a meeting at noon with the caretaker. You can walk through the property. It’s huge, Anne. I never understood Eoin’s attachment to it. It’s not a moneymaker, and he never visited. In fact, he didn’t want to talk about it at all. Ever. But he wouldn’t sell. However . . . he made no stipulation on your selling. I have an appraiser and a realtor scheduled to meet us there, just so you have an idea of what it’s worth. It will give you more options.”
“I need to go by myself,” I whispered. I didn’t bother to tell him I wouldn’t be selling the house under any circumstances.
“Why?” he gasped.
“Because.”
Harvey sighed, and Barbara bit her lip. They were worried about me. But there was no way I could walk through Garvagh Glebe, listening for Eoin, looking for Thomas, and seeing only the years that stretched between us. I couldn’t return to Garvagh Glebe with an audience. If Barbara and Harvey were worried about me now, it