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to make me read the name of the bank back to him, so I did what he asked and put it in my address book.” She put on her reading glasses, paged through the book, stopped, and read carefully. “Luzerner Kantonalbank, Pilatusstrasse 12, Lucerne.”
    What business did Moncure Therapeutics have in Lucerne? “Did he authorize you to access the safe-deposit box, since he was worried something might happen to him?”
    Nora closed the address book, took off her glasses, and set them both on the coffee table. “No. The only other person he authorized to access the box was you.”
    Mia suddenly felt light-headed. “Me?”
    Nora nodded, watching Mia closely. Mia’s thoughts ricocheted in so many directions she could barely make sense of any of them. This couldn’t be true, could it? Nora slid open the drawer in the end table next to the couch, took out a plain white envelope, and handed it to Mia. “And there’s this.”
    Mia took the flimsy sealed envelope and glanced at the front of it. “Mia” was written on the front in Brent’s familiar handwriting. Her heart overflowed with sorrow for him and Nora, and her throat thickened with emotion.
    “He sent it from Switzerland before he…before the accident,” Nora said.
    Mia wasn’t sure she wanted to open the envelope in front of Nora, but her expectant gaze left Mia no choice. She gently tore the seam across the top and looked inside to find a tiny flash memory card wedged into a bottom corner. Reaching in, she pinched it between her fingers, pulled it out, and shot Nora a questioning gaze.
    “He sent one for me, too, along with a note saying if he’d made it home by the time I got the letter, to give it back to him. But if he hadn’t…” Nora’s voice wavered. “I should watch the video on the one he sent to me, and make sure yours got to you.” She wrung the tissue in her wrinkled hands. “I didn’t know how to find you in Haiti.” She gazed at the urn on the table, hunching her narrow shoulders even more. “And honestly, I was afraid to ask.”
    Afraid of who? The heat in the room kept her from drawing a satisfying breath. Her pulse pounded, whooshing in her ears.
    Mia gazed at the flash card. Could she handle seeing a video that Brent had made for her? Dread crawled over her clammy skin and she stifled a shudder. No telling what further disturbing information he’d reveal, or what deep emotions he’d stir when there was no opportunity for forgiveness.
    “These came to you in the mail?” Mia asked.
    “No, Brent sent them to Shirley, my best friend who lives downstairs.”
    “Why did he send them to her?”
    “The note said he didn’t want them to be intercepted, and for me to be careful using my phone or my email to contact you, and not to use my computer to watch the video.” Nora sniffled. “I watched it on Shirley’s computer.”
    Mia glanced at her purse. Should she be paranoid to use the smartphone Lila had given her yesterday, or even her personal laptop? “Have you told anyone that Brent sent us the flash cards?”
    “Shirley’s the only one who knows, since he sent them to her.”
    “Did you call me from her phone?” Mia asked.
    Nora nodded. “I called Ellen Sloane last week and asked if she could help me get in touch with you since she worked with you and Brent. She called me today and gave me your number.”
    Mia couldn’t fault Ellen for that. She probably thought she was doing a grieving mother a favor. “Did you tell her why you wanted to talk to me?”
    “No.”
    Mia felt a twinge of relief. There was no way this story should see daylight until she found out if there was any truth to it. Even then, whom could she share it with? “Does anyone else know what you told me about Brent’s death—about the safe-deposit box and his suspicions about the vaccine?”
    Nora was silent long enough for Mia to know that she’d shared the story with someone. She didn’t seem the type to go telling lots of people, so that gave Mia