PROLOGUE
London
1993
“Olivia Caroline Rothschild, you come here this instant!”
Liv stuck out her bottom lip and took one more twirl in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Her new pink coat was buttoned up to her chin, and the dark pink velvet trim shimmered beneath the store lighting. She liked the way the fabric swirled around her legs and her white-blond curls bounced around her shoulders when she did a pirouette in her black patent Mary Janes.
She sighed and stamped her foot, just like she’d seen Mommy do when Papa had told her they wouldn’t be going to Tuscany for the winter, and she blinked her eyes rapidly until a fat tear slid down her cheek.
“Now,” Nanny Gillian said, pointing her finger to the spot next to her.
Liv slowly dragged her way back, disappointed the tears hadn’t worked, but they’d been worth a try. At least, that’s what Mommy had said after the Tuscany fiasco.
Her sister, Elizabeth, held on to Nanny Gillian’s hand, her cornflower-blue eyes big and round as she chewed on her bottom lip. Liv was older than Elizabeth by twelve whole minutes, and she stuck her tongue out the second Nanny Gillian wasn’t looking. Elizabeth was a scaredy-cat and a big baby, and Liv never hesitated to tell her so right to her face. Elizabeth’s lip would quiver and her eyes would fill with tears. Elizabeth always got what she wanted when she cried, unlike Liv. Mommy was right—sometimes life was just unfair.
She and Elizabeth had been instructed during the car ride to Harrods that they were to stay close at all times and not wander away. There were too many people during the holidays, and it was easy for two little girls to get lost. Elizabeth had nodded, but Liv had rolled her eyes. They’d been to Harrods dozens of times, and they knew all the best places to hide and play. When they came with Mommy instead of Nanny Gillian, she never made them stay right with her, and they always went to the candy store after they were through shopping.
“I told you to stay close, young lady,” Nanny Gillian said. “If you wander off again, you’ll not get a treat, and you’ll be sent straight to the nursery when we get home. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Liv said, the tears real this time. She kicked the toe of her Mary Jane against the floor. Being sent to the nursery was a terrible punishment, especially when Papa was home because then she wouldn’t get to tell him good-bye before he left again.
She felt Elizabeth’s hand slip into hers and give her a squeeze. Elizabeth didn’t like to see anyone hurting, even when they deserved it. They followed behind Nanny Gillian, hand in hand, up to the children’s department so they could pick out their Christmas dresses. She’d seen a lovely red coat with a white fur collar and matching muff in the catalog they’d been looking at during breakfast, and she thought it would be just beautiful with the right dress.
Liv meant to be good. Really she did. But they tried on clothes for hours, and she was so bored. And hungry. And thirsty. And Nanny Gillian had been right—the store was very crowded with other little girls and their nannies and mommies, picking out dresses and throwing tantrums when they didn’t get their way.
“Elizabeth,” Liv whispered, reaching out from inside the circular clothing rack where she was hiding and grabbing her sister’s hand, pulling her inside.
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked, eyes wide. “We’ll get in trouble.”
“No, we won’t,” Liv insisted. “She’s not looking. She’s been talking to that other lady almost the whole time. I’m hungry, and I can’t wait anymore.”
“She said she’ll take us to get a treat when we’re finished,” Elizabeth protested, trying to pull away.
“I’m not waiting any longer,” Liv said, putting a fist to her hip. “I’ve got money in my pocket. We can go downstairs and get something to eat and be back before she finishes talking.”
“No,” Elizabeth said, and she had that stubborn look in her eyes. She didn’t get it often, but when she did, Liv knew she was in for a fight.
“Fine,” Liv said, letting go of her sister and sticking out her chin. “I’ll go myself. You can stay up here and be hungry. And I won’t bring you anything.”
“You can’t go by yourself,” Elizabeth said primly. “You’re only six, and we’re never supposed to go anywhere by ourselves. That’s the rule.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked. “Tattle? You’re such a baby.”
“I am not.” The tears welled in Elizabeth’s eyes, and Liv felt victory.
“Then prove it,” she said. “Come with me. We can bring Nanny something back, then she won’t be mad at us.”
Elizabeth chewed her lip again and sneaked another glance at Nanny Gillian. She was still talking, and another lady had joined in the conversation.
“I’m not a baby,” she repeated.
Liv grinned and grabbed her hand, and they slipped out from the clothes rack and around the edge of the children’s department until they were out of sight. And then they ran toward the escalators, giggling their way back to the first floor.
It turned out that Liv had only enough money for one drink and a small bag of popcorn, so they decided to share and get Nanny Gillian something the next time.
“Come on,” Elizabeth said. “We have to go back.”
Liv gave a long-suffering sigh, but she knew her sister was right. “Come on, then. We can see the Christmas tree again on the way back.”
But the big Christmas tree with the twinkling lights and the bright red packages beneath it was nowhere to be found. And Liv would never admit it to Elizabeth, but she was starting to get a little bit scared. She couldn’t remember which direction they were supposed to go to find the escalators, and there were people everywhere, even more than before.
She grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and dragged her through the jostling bodies, pressing forward despite the butterflies dancing in her tummy. And then she saw it as they turned the corner. The Christmas tree. It was right in the middle of the large room. And behind it was the escalator.
“Come on,” she said, looking back at Elizabeth over her shoulder. “Why are you crying? I swear, you’re always crying.” Their mother always said that to Elizabeth, so the words rolled off Liv’s tongue easily. Of course, that only made Elizabeth cry more.
“I thought we were lost,” she said, sniffling.
“Of course not, silly. I always know exactly where we are. Now, come on. Nanny Gillian won’t talk forever. I don’t want to get sent to the nursery as punishment. Papa is home from his trip and I’m sure he has stories to tell us.”
Elizabeth nodded, and they pushed through the crowd until they reached the escalator. Just as they were about to step on, Liv was lifted off her feet and a man’s hand was clamped over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide as she saw her sister in the tight grasp of a different man, and pure instinct kicked in. She bit the hand and began kicking her legs, struggling to get down, and she heard the man use a bad word—one that only Papa was allowed to use—as he jerked his hand aside. Her tiny fists pounded against his arm, but his puffy coat made it like hitting a pillow.
So she screamed. An ear-piercing scream that Nanny Gillian often said could cut glass. And just like that, the man dropped her. Right on her bum.
The air was knocked out of her and people swarmed around her, but she tried to stand.
Elizabeth.
She couldn’t see Elizabeth. She screamed again, pointing in the direction the other man had taken her sister, and hysteria took over. She’d never spent a moment without Elizabeth. She was Liv’s other half. Her better half. Her screams broke into sobs, and someone tried to hold her, tried to comfort her, but there was nothing they could do.
Her sister was gone.