He nodded, also looking puzzled that Sophie was going down there. "That's the chapel rectory. The
chapel curator lives there. She also happens to be the head of the Rosslyn Trust." He paused. "And
my grandmother."
"Your grandmother heads the Rosslyn Trust?"
The young man nodded. "I live with her in the rectory and help keep up the chapel and give tours."
He shrugged. "I've lived here my whole life. My grandmother raised me in that house."
Concerned for Sophie, Langdon moved across the chapel toward the door to call out to her. He was
only halfway there when he stopped short. Something the young man said just registered.
My grandmother raised me.
Langdon looked out at Sophie on the bluff, then down at the rosewood box in his hand.
Impossible.
Slowly, Langdon turned back to the young man. "You said your grandmother has a box like this
one?"
"Almost identical."
"Where did she get it?"
"My grandfather made it for her. He died when I was a baby, but my grandmother still talks about
him. She says he was a genius with his hands. He made all kinds of things."
Langdon glimpsed an unimaginable web of connections emerging. "You
said your grandmother
raised you. Do you mind my asking what happened to your parents?"
The young man looked surprised. "They died when I was young." He paused. "The same day as my
grandfather."
Langdon's heart pounded. "In a car accident?"
The docent recoiled, a look of bewilderment in his olive-green eyes. "Yes. In a car accident. My
entire family died that day. I lost my grandfather, my parents, and..." He hesitated, glancing down
at the floor. "And
your sister," Langdon said.
Out on the bluff, the fieldstone house was exactly as Sophie remembered it. Night was falling now,
and the house exuded a warm and inviting aura. The smell of bread wafted through the opened
screened door, and a golden light shone in the windows. As Sophie approached, she could hear the
quiet sounds of sobbing from within.
Through the screened door, Sophie saw an elderly woman in the hallway.
Her back was to the
door, but Sophie could see she was crying. The woman had long, luxuriant, silver hair that
conjured an unexpected wisp of memory. Feeling herself drawn closer, Sophie stepped onto the
porch stairs. The woman was clutching a framed photograph of a man and touching her fingertips
to his face with loving sadness.
It was a face Sophie knew well.
Grand-père.
The woman had obviously heard the sad news of his death last night.
A board squeaked beneath Sophie's feet,
and the woman turned slowly, her sad eyes finding
Sophie's. Sophie wanted to run, but she stood transfixed. The woman's fervent gaze never wavered
as she set down the photo and approached the screened door. An eternity seemed to pass as the two
women stared at one another through the thin mesh. Then, like the slowly gathering swell of an
ocean wave, the woman's visage transformed from one of uncertainty... to disbelief... to hope... and
finally, to cresting joy.
Throwing open the door, she came out,
reaching with soft hands, cradling Sophie's thunderstruck
face. "Oh, dear child... look at you!"
Although Sophie did not recognize her, she knew who this woman was. She tried to speak but
found she could not even breathe.
"Sophie," the woman sobbed, kissing her forehead.
Sophie's words were a choked whisper. "But...
Grand-père said you were..."
"I know." The woman placed her tender hands on Sophie's shoulders and gazed at her with familiar
eyes. "Your grandfather and I were forced to say so many things. We did what we thought was
right. I'm so sorry.
It was for your own safety, princess."
Sophie heard her final word, and immediately thought of her grandfather, who had called her
princess for so many years. The sound of his voice seemed to echo now in the ancient stones of
Rosslyn, settling through the earth and reverberating in the unknown hollows below.
The woman threw her arms around Sophie, the tears flowing faster. "Your grandfather wanted so
badly to tell you everything. But things were difficult between you two. He tried so hard. There's
so much to explain. So very much to explain." She kissed Sophie's
forehead once again, then
whispered in her ear. "No more secrets, princess. It's time you learn the truth about our family."
Sophie and her grandmother were seated on the porch stairs in a tearful hug when the young docent
dashed across the lawn, his eyes shining with hope and disbelief.
"Sophie?"
Through her tears, Sophie nodded, standing. She did not know the young man's face, but as they
embraced, she could feel the power of the blood coursing through his veins...
the blood she now
understood they shared.
When Langdon walked across the lawn to join them, Sophie could not imagine that only yesterday
she had felt so alone in the world. And now, somehow, in this foreign place, in the company of
three people she barely knew, she felt at last that she was home.
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