Hated people online debating whether she deserved Bellini money.
Money she had never asked for.
She confronted Adrian.
“Fix it.”
“I cannot control newspapers.”
“You seem like the kind of man who thinks he can.”
“Historically, yes.”
She glared.
Adrian continued.
“I can offer security.”
“I already have too much.”
“Lawyers.”
“No.”
“A public statement.”
Claire considered.
“What would it say?”
“That you are a private citizen.”
“That you saved my daughter.”
“That your relationship to my family remains personal.”
“No financial matters will be discussed.”
Claire nodded.
“And?”
Adrian understood.
“And anyone harassing you should stop.”
“Less threatening.”
“I thought that was restrained.”
“It sounded like you were about to bury somebody.”
He smiled.
“I can revise.”
The statement helped.
Not completely.
Enough.
DNA testing confirmed what the necklace already made difficult to deny.
Claire Bennett was Rachel Bellini’s daughter.
Adrian Bellini was her uncle.
Claire stared at the result for almost ten minutes.
Then she laughed.
Adrian frowned.
“What?”
“All my life I wondered why Mom made lasagna like feeding twelve construction workers.”
Adrian stared.
Then laughed too.
“Our mother cooked that way.”
Claire wiped her eyes.
“I have a family.”
“You had one before.”
She looked at him.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
He did.
Family was not blood alone.
Claire had built a life with her mother.
Friends.
Coworkers.
People who had helped after Rachel died.
The Bellinis did not replace any of them.
They added something.
Complicated.
Messy.
Late.
But real.
Adrian showed Claire photographs.
Rachel at five.
Rachel at twelve.
Rachel stealing his graduation hat.
Rachel on a dock with her feet in Lake Michigan.
Claire touched each image carefully.
She had almost no photographs of her mother before age twenty.
Now suddenly Rachel had a childhood.
Bedrooms.
Birthday cakes.
Brothers.
Parents.
A dog named Bruno.
Claire cried over the dog photograph for reasons she could not explain.
Adrian sat beside her.
“She would have hated that picture.”
“Why?”
“She thought Bruno liked me better.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
Claire laughed.
“Then I understand her.”
Sofia adjusted fastest.
“So you’re my cousin?”
Claire frowned.
“Technically first cousin once removed.”
Sofia stared.
“That sounds fake.”
“It does.”
“Can I call you Aunt Claire?”
Claire looked at Adrian.
He shrugged.
“You decide.”
Claire smiled.
“Yes.”
Sofia hugged her.
This time she did not say Mummy.
Claire was grateful.
Not because the first word had been wrong.
Because Sofia no longer needed Claire to be someone else.