Free Secrets Unveiled by Mary Manners Page A

since we’re laying it all on the table,” her mother said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, I knew it was Grant who took that locket.” She scooped a bite of gelato, slipped it into her mouth and waited for it to melt. “I’ve known for a while now.”
    “But how?” Maggie rubbed at her weary eyes, frowning at the smudge of mascara that came away and clung to her fingers. She knew she must look awful, but she could hardly manage the strength to care. “How did you know?”
    “Your grandmother told me near the end, while she was in the hospital.” Stella’s spoon clattered as she set it into the ice cream bowl. “I suppose she wanted me to know. But she asked me not to tell you, and I’ve kept that confidence…until now.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Grandma asked me to watch over Grant, to finish the work she’d begun.”
    “But he stole from her, and not just anything—but a family heirloom. And to make matters worse he failed to return the piece, even when he knew who it belonged to.” A fresh wave of tears blurred Maggie’s vision and turned her nose to a stuffy mess. “What work could Grandma possibly want to do with someone like that?”
    “It’s not that complicated to understand, Maggie.” Mom fished her teabag from her cup and set it on the saucer. “Your grandmother knew the locket was valuable—at least sentimentally. But she also understood that the fate of a lost soul is even more valuable. Grant was lost back then…at odds with his father and mourning the loss of his mother. Your grandmother saw his need, felt it as if it was her own, and so she made it her business to help him.”
    “How did she help him?” Maggie frowned as she pressed an index finger to her lips, remembering the way they’d tingled at the touch of Grant’s kiss. Her belly churned. “By keeping his name out of the local newspapers?”
    “That was a start, but certainly not everything—not by a long shot.”
    “Now, I’m even more confused.” Maggie flattened her palms to the table and cradled her head in her arms. She struggled against the resentment that bloomed inside her like a bouquet of thorny roses. “Am I the only one who didn’t know about this?”
    “In part…” Stella splayed a hand over Maggie’s back and rubbed gently. “Grant doesn’t know the entire story either—he doesn’t know all Grandma Nell did for him because she wanted to keep it that way. But maybe it’s time he learned the rest of the story—full disclosure—no more secrets.”

7
    “Gemma, it’s bedtime!” Grant called as he approached the doorway to Gemma’s bedroom. The springs of her mattress squeaked beneath the pressure of her enthusiastic bouncing. “No more jumping on the bed. You need to settle down now or you’ll never get to sleep tonight.”
    She plopped onto the bed cross-legged and swiped a curl from her flushed face as he entered the room. “But it’s only eight o’clock.”
    “Since when do you tell time?”
    “Miss Andrews taught me.” She motioned toward the nightstand where the alarm clock sat along with a doll and a coloring book and crayons. “That’s a digital clock…they’re easy. See, it says eight-o-three.”
    Grant tweaked Gemma’s nose, feeling the heat that emanated from her flushed cheeks. Her chest held a slight rasp as she sucked down a breath. He thought of the inhaler he’d left on the kitchen counter; he should have brought it up with him. “That makes it three minutes past your bedtime and time to settle in for the night.”
    “But you promised a story.” She patted the book splayed over the comforter beside her. “I picked a good one.”
    “Love You Forever?” He smoothed her hair back and propped a hip on the edge of the bed.
    “Uh huh. And you gotta sing too.” Gemma scooted beneath the covers and settled back against the pillows. “Miss Andrews says you’re supposed to sing. She sings real pretty, you know.”
    Grant had no doubts. Was there