CLAIRE

I looked at Julian, whose hand had moved unconsciously toward the painting. "My father sold her paintings after she died," Julian said, his voice hollow. "I thought they were all gone."

"This one wasn't," Blake said quietly. "It stayed in Victor's private collection."

"How do you know that?" Julian asked, still staring at the painting.

"Because I checked," Blake admitted. "When I saw the auction catalog, I recognized the name."

Julian moved closer to the painting, close enough that a gallery attendant glanced over nervously. "She painted this the summer before she died," Julian said. "We went to Lake Tahoe, just the two of us."

His voice was thick...