A tall man in a gray suit stood near the arrivals gate holding a small card with my name written on it. “Senhora Evelyn Carter?” he asked softly. “I am Dr. Henrique Alves. I have waited for you for six years.” My knees nearly gave way. I pulled the photograph from my purse, and his eyes filled with tears the moment he saw it. “Then Walter kept his promise,” he whispered.
He led me to a dark car without another word. Rain slid down the windows as Lisbon passed in gold and gray, and I gripped the photograph until my fingers ached. We climbed into green hills, and a stone gate appeared. Dr. Alves stopped the car and said, “Before you go inside, Senhora, you must know who is waiting in that house.”
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