necklace hanging from her neck.
It was shaped like half a sun, handmade decades ago.
Rosa had given it to Elena shortly before she died.
“You were found after a terrible fire thirty years ago,” Rosa had told her weakly from her hospital bed. “You had a burn scar on your collarbone… and this necklace clutched in your tiny hand.”
Those had always been Elena’s only clues about where she came from.
Inside the ballroom, Julian became a completely different man.
He smiled warmly.
Shook hands.
Laughed with powerful executives