Chapter 31

THIRTY-ONE

NOVEMBER 2019

That fall, and for many years later, Tori would tell herself that she'd done exactly what her grandmother had asked her to do. She'd chosen life.

She'd chosen life when she stayed in Italy for a few extra days, so she could help her grandparents pack up and travel with her for a six-month stay at her home. So they could reunite with Marilene and get to know Molly. So Molly could know the story of the people who came before, and the way their actions helped ensure that one day she would come to be.

She'd chosen life when she brought Molly to California over the summer, to let her finally meet her father. She'd realized that shutting Brian out of Molly's life wasn't in her daughter's best interest. As Emilio had said, a person's secrets reveal who they are. She no longer wanted to be the person who kept secrets as a way of maintaining control. Brian had always wanted to know his daughter, but Tori had kept her distance, fearing that letting him in would open her up to hurt and disappointment. Still, Molly deserved to know her father and to have a relationship with him. Her role, as Molly's mom, was to help Molly forge that relationship, not deny Molly access to her father. Tori had learned from her trip to Italy that the antidote to mistrust is connection.

She'd chosen life, too, when she'd gone back to see Jeremy's band at Danny's bar after she arrived home. Choosing life meant giving the future a chance. She'd sat at the same outdoor table where she'd sat on the night they met, and before the first set had started, she'd slipped a note to the drummer to give to Jeremy, asking him to invite her up on the stage for a second chance. Two songs in, she saw Jeremy read the note. He'd invited her up to sing, as he'd done that first night, and she accepted. But the truth was, she was asking for a second chance to say yes. And she was sure he knew that's what she meant.

And finally, she'd chosen life when she walked down the stairs of her house, wearing the beautiful white linen suit she and Giulia had designed together, to meet Jeremy near the front window that let in the setting orange sun, so they could exchange wedding vows. And when she'd asked Giulia to let out the seams a bit, to accommodate her thickening waistline. Their twins—a boy and a girl, she'd discovered from the ultrasound at her most recent doctor's appointment—were due next June. By then, she and Molly would have moved with Jeremy into a new house that could accommodate their growing family. And though they'd hoped Marilene would move in with them, she'd decided on an alternate plan. She was returning to Italy with Giulia and Luca. To search for her brothers and find out what had happened to her parents. She'd been inspired by Tori's success in uncovering her own story, and she wanted the same sense of peace that Tori now knew.

The wedding was small, but all the important people were there, including Brianna and her newest boyfriend. And a handful of Tori's clients, including Sheree, who had been married in her beautiful dress with the asymmetrical hem, and Kelly, who had sent the postcard from Italy. Vincenzo, Emilio and Gabriella, along with Emilio's children and grandchildren, watched the ceremony on Zoom from the hotel in Anzalea or wherever else they were in the world. And, of course, Albie watched from his favorite spot on the rug.

The guests also included two newcomers. While she was still in Italy, Tori had called the museum director to let him know she'd located Giulia, and that led to revelations about the anonymous couple who had donated the wedding dress to the museum. It turned out that Giulia's older sister, Annalisa, hadn't died trying to escape from Parissi Castle; she'd made it to New York after all. When she'd died just a year ago, her granddaughter, Mia, had discovered the wedding dress in her attic and donated it to the museum. She and her husband lived in Philadelphia, where Mia was studying for a Ph.D. in cardiology, and were delighted to be invited to the wedding. Tori immediately adored her cousin and knew they were going to be lifelong friends.

Standing in front of them all was the town's mayor, a friend of Marilene's, who'd agreed to officiate.

Tori walked along the makeshift aisle between the rows of guests and gave her bouquet to Molly, then reached for Jeremy's hand. By the time she'd returned from Italy, Molly was no longer disappointed with her role in the ballet production. In fact, she loved being dance captain, and felt it was even more fun than being the star. Tori had to hand it to her. She'd been so worried about Molly's reaction. But Molly was resilient, something Tori would need to remember as she moved closer to her teenage years.

Tori and Jeremy joined hands, as the mayor began the ceremony. The two of them had decided to take a very short honeymoon—just a long weekend in the city—because they had a lot to do, what with the new house and the coming babies. And the new store—Tori's Originals—which would open in January. Giulia and Luca had saved some money over the years, as Luca had worked as a teacher and Giulia a dressmaker, and they'd decided that as a wedding gift, they would cover the first six months' rent of the new store. Giulia had always wanted her own shop. And she thought it fitting that her granddaughter, in partnership with her new husband, would realize that dream.

Looking out the window at the setting sun, Tori felt the twins rustle beneath her waistband. She remembered her first ultrasound appointment back in August, when she and Jeremy had seen those two strong heartbeats, pulsing sparks of light. And now the babies were moving. She expected they'd be like her mother, Olive, who Giulia had said was full of life from the minute she was born. Babies didn't have to choose life. They did it automatically. As for adults, it sometimes took a little longer, Tori thought.

But once they did, the sky was the limit.

As she smiled at Jeremy, she remembered a thought she had had last night just before falling asleep. It wasn't a dream, but more like a vision, a premonition. She saw herself going back to Parissi Island sometime in the future with her family—Jeremy, Molly, and the as yet unnamed babies. And at some point, she would sneak away from the museum and the dock, and go to the edge of the shore. There, she'd take out from her pocket the small, crumbling note she'd retrieved from the last box she'd opened in the archives. She'd carefully unfold it and study the Italian words one last time.

And then she'd rip it up into the tiniest of pieces. So small that they would practically become the wood pulp from which they were made.

And when those pieces were as tiny as possible, she'd fling them up into the sky. There they'd scatter and soar, carried by the sea breeze. And as they slowly rained down on the sand and the water and the rocks, and on the shadows of all the people who perished as they tried to escape the island, and on the earth that would forever hold the memory of the six million Jews and all the others who had suffered and died at the hands of the Nazis, she would make a promise. The same promise that her great-grandfather, the Jewish tailor, had made to her great-grandmother, the disowned Parissi heiress. The same promise that Luca had written to Giulia and Giulia had left for Luca years later. The promise that said you will not be forgotten.

"Wherever you go," she'd whisper as the tiny pieces of paper rained down. "Wherever you go."

***

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