"Who is he?"

"I don't think that you're ready to know."

"I am."

"Sydney everything is going to change when people find out the truth. There is going to be a lot of upheaval."

"Because you work with him?"

Wilhelmina simply nods.

"Please just tell me."

"If I tell you, you have to wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Wait for me to tell him, to tell everyone."

"Why?"

"Sydney, please."

"Just tell me."

"I..."'

"You don't really have to tell me. I already know."

"Really?"

Sydney grabs a photo album from the center of the bed. She flips open to a picture, and hands it to Wilhelmina. Wilhelmina studies the picture as Sydney begins.

"It's taken in Sydney, the year before I was born."

"And?"

"You were there when I was conceived. You were there for work."

"Yes," she nods.

Sydney flips the page to a group photo. She points to the page. "And that's him," she points. Wilhelmina's jaw drops, but she says nothing.

"Say something."

She quickly recovers, "Why do you think that?"

"I look like him."

"I..."

"Minus the sunburn."

"Sydney..."

"He is my father, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Why is that so hard for you to admit? It's not like I'm going to wake up tomorrow, and go tell him."

"I..."

"I'm tired. We can talk about this later," Sydney relents.

"Ok," Wilhelmina agrees as she vacates her seat on the bed. She starts toward the bathroom. Sydney doesn't move. Wilhelmina takes a shower and returns to her room. She finds Sydney asleep on top of the covers. She peels back the covers on the opposite side, and crawls under them.

"Sydney I know that you're not asleep. You've never fallen asleep that fast in your entire life."

"You want me to leave?"

"You can stay, but you need to get under the covers," she answers as she turns off the lamp.

"Good it's cold in here."

Sydney crawls under the covers, making sure to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible.

"Do you remember when I was little, I would wait for the nanny to fall asleep, and then I would sneak in here with you."

"And you'd always put your cold feet on my legs."

"And when I woke up I'd be back in my bed. Why did you let me sleep in here? Why are you letting me sleep in here now? I'm too old to be sleeping with you."

"You have to pick your battles. You only slept in here on occasion."

"You never let Nico sleep with you."

"Nico never stops moving. Once when she was about two she got sick, and I let her sleep with me. When I woke up I had a bloody nose, because she kicked me."

"But you don't like to have anyone sleep in bed with you."

"Try not to fall out of bed this time," Wilhelmina remarks.

"That happened once."

"You don't have to sleep all the way over there. I don't bite."

"I don't want to crowd you."

"I don't mind."

"Since when? You hate when people invade your personal space."

"You're my daughter, it's a little bit different."

"Seriously though why do you let me sleep in here?"

"You're not home very often."

"So?"

"It's nice to wake up on occasion and not have to worry about where you are, what you're doing, and if you're ok."

"Oh."

"But if you don't quiet down I'm going to have to boot you out."

"Night. Love you," she replies.

"Love you more," Wilhelmina responds in a quiet voice.

When Sydney wakes up Wilhelmina is gone. She wonders into the kitchen and finds a box of cereal sitting on the counter, with a note on it.

Have a good day. Please don't overindulge.

Mom

"Why would she buy cereal? She hates it." Sydney asks herself.

Claire walks past Wilhelmina's office.

"Claire?" Wilhelmina calls out.

Claire steps dead in her tracks, just outside the doorway of Wilhelmina's office. She turns and looks into the office, "Yes?"

"Can you come in here for a minute?"

"I guess," she answers wearily.

"Close the door behind you," Wilhelmina insists.

Claire closes the door behind her, and slowly approaches Wilhelmina's desk.

"Have a seat."

"I'll stand. What do you need?"

"Advice."

"From me?"

"Yes," Wilhelmina nods.

"About what?"

"My daughter," she answers.

"Nico?"

"Please have a seat," Wilhelmina begs.

Claire sinks into a chair, dreading what's to come.