Escape Velocity

Chapter Twenty-one

I closed the diary and fingered the edges of the cloth binding. Loss washed through me as I read about the deaths. Until a month ago, my great-grandmother was only a vague presence through the paintings we had. Her parents never crossed my mind. It was crazy to be lifted to events almost a hundred years ago. There was a sense of strangeness, but my connection to family had leap-frogged from Gramp back two generations.

They had been nonexistent in my world. Now they were so real. People with feelings, expectations, happiness, sadness. Like everyone with dreams and hope for the future. I wished I could let them know that their daughter survived. That she married, had a child, a grandchild, a great-grandchild. That I existed because the devastations of war had not stopped her.

This was about something more than Gramp. I owed a debt to my great-great-grandparents and owed it to them to finish the story, to find my ending.

Some readers skip ahead, who read the final pages before the middle, but I wasn't one of them. Desperation seeped out of my bones to reach the part where she found happiness. But I was committed to reading her diary as she had written it. To learn who she was and how she lived as she lived it. To find out if she had another family before Gramp.

Leaning back into the chair, I bent my head against the soft cushioning and stared at the ceiling, seeking the relief of blankness. The den in the Arouet Suite had seemed perfect for reading because it was small and quiet, and I could usually count on being alone. Now, surrounded by the luxury of Hidden Springs, the starkness of my great-grandmother's loss ripped away any sense of comfort.

I let my thoughts fly to Italy, to the war, to my great-grandmother's life. Not much older than me, she must have been scared every day. Alone, having lost her parents and not knowing whom to trust, reaching for survival mode to make it through each day.

Her world seemed more real than my own; shame was thick in my throat. I'd been ready to leave Parallax. To quit because of childish jealousy. Now I'd learned I came from stronger stuff. My great-grandmother hadn't survived the war only to have me run away because I encountered a few challenges.

"Savanna?" Christina startled me. "You okay?"

"Hey. I'm fine. Sort of. Doing lots of thinking."

Christina stood next to the side table where I'd left the diary. I put my hand on it protectively.

Christina dropped onto the green sofa. "About what?"

I sat up, gripping the arms of the chair. "About winning and losing. About my compulsion to prove myself all the time."

"What do you need to prove?"

"I don't know anymore. Prove that I'm good enough, I guess. Prove that I'm worth knowing." I stood up and crossed to the sofa. "I can't talk about it anymore right now. Let's have breakfast. All this makes me hungry."

As I turned to go, Christina said, "Wait, you forgot your book." She held out the diary.

One by one, I'd begun sharing the diary. It was easier to share my great-grandmother's thoughts than my own. It was a layer of protection, even when I opened a door I'd rather leave closed.

But now it was Christina's turn. All she knew from our earlier conversation was the story about the painting, about Ginevra. Answering her unspoken question, I said, "It's the diary, my Italian great-grandmother's."

"That's incredible. I didn't know it was in Italian."

"It's not. She wrote it in English. Which is fantastic. Otherwise, I'd never know her history."

"What did she write about? Some juicy gossip? How much she resented her parents trying to control her? Boys?" Christina's eyebrows bounced.

"Are we talking about you or my great-grandmother?"