May 23, 1917

"Emmy!" Johnathan exclaims as Emily wanders into the sitting room. His big brown eyes light up as he wriggles out of Annelise's arms; I smile…it's hard to believe he's nine months old and already talking. Emmy!" he calls again, crawling after her. Emily turns at the sound of his baby voice, and he opens his arms to her as she picks him up.

The doorbell chimes suddenly, and Johnathan's wide smile fades. Annelise and I exchange a look as we wait for the inevitable wails to start, but to my own surprise-and great relief-he doesn't cry…just looks back at us with a confused stare as Emily bounces him up and down.

Crawford appears in the doorway. "A Mrs. Lois Maloney is here to see you, sir." Who? My mind runs through the names of my father's old friends, former servants, wives of my friends and workers, but I can't remember having ever heard that name. I glance back at Annelise…maybe this Mrs. Maloney is a friend of hers, but she seems every bit as confused as I.

A tall thin woman is waiting for me in the parlor. Her red-blonde hair is streaked with gray and her clothes patched and frayed. As I look at her, I'm strangely reminded of a much older version of Emily- but that's not possible…Emily has no other family. "Mrs. Maloney?"

"Mr. Hockley." I can't help but notice her Irish accent, even stronger than Emily's, as she greets me. She sits stiffly in an armchair and looks me square in the eye. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

"Excuse me?" I stare at her incredulously. What could I possibly own that would rightfully belong to someone like her?

She must notice my confusion because she pulls out a battered newspaper clipping and hands it to me. As I unfold the scrap of paper, I realize that this isn't just any old newspaper photograph…it's Collins's photo of me with Emily, the one taken just days after Titanic. I don't understand…why does she have this? What does it mean? "Mr. Hockley, Emily is my granddaughter."

Her words fall like hammers against the awkward silence, confirming what I already knew in the back of my mind. I lean against the fireplace as I turn away, trying to hide the shock in my eyes. "A-and you're here to claim her now?" I stammer.

Mrs. Maloney sighs. "I thought she had died along with the rest of her family." I force myself to meet her gaze. "Then about two years ago, someone sent me that…" Her head inclines toward the photograph in my hand.

"Who sent it?" My voice is edged with anger, and she winces slightly at the unintended harshness of my tone.

"There was no name," she replies. "No note, just that photograph with an address on the back."

I turn the paper over and sure enough, this address is written in an untidy scrawl on the other side. The paper crumples in my hand as I turn to face her. "You said this was two years ago…why are you only here now?"

I feel a hot angry flush rise to my cheeks as she chuckles slightly. How dare she laugh at me?! "You obviously have never been poor, Mr. Hockley. It took me this long to save up enough money to come for her."

A long pause follows as Mrs. Maloney searches my eyes. "I'm taking her back to Ireland with me," she finally breaks the silence.

An idea suddenly dawns on me. "I believe we can help each other, Mrs. Maloney." I reach into my pocket and pull out a wad of dollar bills. "You leave Emily in my care, and I'll make sure you never have to be poor again." I offer her $500, but she shakes her head "no". $1000? No. $3000? No. $5000? No. I sigh, exasperated. "Name your price, Mrs. Maloney."

"Money is the root of all evil, Mr. Hockley." Her emerald eyes blaze as she sits a little straighter in the chair and says with matriarchal authority, "We leave at the end of the week."

"NO!" I suddenly blurt out before I can stop myself; I know she's staring at me, but I don't care. "I adopted her; she's my daughter now! You can't have her…" My voice trails off weakly.

"Perhaps…" A small triumphant smile spreads across her face. "We should let the courts decide." She presses the small business card of some lawyer into my hand; I realize she's not going to give up Emily without a fight…neither am I.

"Father!" I turn as that familiar voice jerks me from my thoughts. As if on cue, Emily wanders into the parlor, Rose in her arms, Dorothy bounding along at her heels. "Aren't we going to-" She gasps suddenly and I know she's seen the sadness in my eyes. "Oh, Father! What's wrong?"

Mrs. Maloney rises from her chair, and I notice her eyes flashing cold fire as Emily hugs me. "Emily…"

Her red-blonde hair whips behind her as she turns in the direction of the voice. She surveys Mrs. Maloney up and down. "Grandma?" Mrs. Maloney nods flashing a sickly sweet smile, and Emily's eyes grow big as she shrinks behind me. That's not like her…the only other time she'd hide behind me was when my father was around. This can't be a good sign…

"I'll just…" I swallow hard as I feel my throat tightening. "Leave you alone, then." I feel Emily's eyes on me as I turn away, pleading, beseeching me not to leave her with this person, but I can't bring myself to look back. Behind me, I hear Mrs. Maloney's voice rise, scolding Emily for being a "vain, idle child". A hauntingly familiar dull whack follows, and I know she's just struck Emily. I can't listen to this anymore…

"So who sent her the picture?" Gardner asks the question that's been plaguing my mind all afternoon. I've been wracking my brains but I still have no idea how an article published in New York would wind up in Ireland. Whoever sent it must have some reason to want Emily taken from me…someone who'd want me to suffer.

It suddenly dawns on me: "Calvert!" Gardner jumps slightly as my fist pounds the desk and papers scatter. "That son of a bitch!" Gardner is still gaping at me as I turn to him. "Don't you remember? He promised he'd get back at me after that fight…"

Gardner's expression darkens. "Even if it is Calvert, there must be some action to be taken…"

I have to take several deep breaths before I'm able to push my anger deep inside my heart where it belongs. "Too right you are, Mr. Gardner." I pick up the phone on my desk. "Operator, get me Dennis Copeland."

I hear crackling and buzzing on the other end of the line, followed by a faint click as someone picks up. "Copeland and Durant Law Firm. This is Mr. Copeland speaking."

"Copeland? Caledon Hockley here." He mumbles a fawning greeting, but I interrupt him. "I have a slight legal problem…it seems Emily's grandmother has resurfaced and…"

"Yes, I understand, Mr. Hockley," Copeland replies. "This shouldn't be too hard a case to win. Just tell me where the adoption papers are filed and-"

"There aren't any," I cut him off. My heart sinks; I, like Mrs. Maloney, thought all of Emily's family had died that night on Titanic, so I never had the adoption papers drawn up… I never imagined it would come up.

Copeland sighs. "Then I'm afraid the courts would have no choice but to give the child back to her grandmother."

"But…" I start to protest but I stop myself before he can hear the desperation in my voice. My tone changes. "Thank you, Mr. Copeland." And I slam the receiver down.

"So that's it then?" Gardner's voice jerks me out of my thoughts. I nod, avoiding his eyes as I sink farther back into my chair, and I feel his hand squeeze my shoulder. "The Cal Hockley I know wouldn't give up so easily."

"I don't have a choice, Gardner!" I press a hand to my eyes. "She's prepared to drag this out for as long as she can. Besides, The law states-"

"The law isn't always right, sir!" The force of his tone startles me; I stare at him blankly. His voice drops. "There was a reason I left the police force…" He turns away, staring aimlessly out the window. "His name was George; he was just a kid, not much older than Emily…" He swallows hard before continuing, "He'd stolen an old man's wallet. I tried to get him to give it back but he wouldn't…so my partner shot him."

I'm shocked to see tears in his eyes as he looks back at me. "I found out later that he needed the money to buy medicine for his dying mother. When I-I had to tell her that her son had…she died right then and there."

I stare at him speechless. I don't understand…why is he telling me all this? "It was the law that justified my partner's shot," he goes on, apparently noticing my blank expression. "Just like it was the law that demanded that money go back to someone who had no real need for it…" He half-sighs, half-sobs as he wipes his eyes. "Emily is your daughter, sir. Fight for her."

I peer into Johnathan's room as night falls; his messy black hair spills into his face as he lies, his arms wrapped tightly around the bear Johann gave him as Emily reads him a story. She doesn't notice me standing in the doorway looking at her as she sits in the rocking chair, Dorothy nestled at her feet. I can't believe it's come to this…there's nothing I can do to keep her here. Even if there were, I doubt she'd want to be fought over…if by some miracle I did win her back, she'd probably resent me for the rest of her life.

I feel Annelise's arms wrap around me as I turn away. "We can't send her back to Ireland," she whispers, her eyes silently begging me to do something. "Not with that awful old hag…" Her voice drops. "Tonight I saw her hit Emily, just like-"

"I know!" I cut her off before she has the chance to say "your father". She stares at me, her brilliant blue eyes filling with tears…though I'm not sure whether that's because I yelled at her or because she's seen the emotion in my eyes.

"NO! There has to be another way!" She lays her head on my chest as she sobs, her tears drenching my shirt, but I barely notice.

"I don't think there is." My voice is unexpectedly choked as I reply…I wish there was something-anything-else I could say to comfort her. I hold her tighter, stroking her white-blonde hair as the memory of Mrs. Maloney's smug expression haunts me, and suddenly Annelise voice what I'm thinking: "We can't lose her."

Mrs. Maloney purses her lips as Emily emerges on the staircase, Rose tucked under her arm…even the plainest dress she owns is too fancy by the grandmother's standards. She snatches the doll from Emily's hands, holding it high above her head where she can't reach it. "No granddaughter of mine is going to be carrying around such an awful vanity!" Emily's head bows but I can still see the tears in her eyes as Mrs. Maloney shoves her forward. "Now say your goodbyes," she snaps.

I bend so that my eyes meet hers, brushing the falling tears from her cheek. "I d-don't want to go back to Ireland!" she sobs, throwing her arms around me. "I want to s-stay with you!"

"I know…" I'm grateful she can't see the tears I'm blinking back as my arms close around her...once I let her go, I know I'll never see her again. I swallow hard, and my voice drops so that Mrs. Maloney can't hear. "Remember what I told you…no matter what happens, you'll always be my daughter."

"I love you, Father," she sniffles, and my heart shatters as she says those words for what I know is going to be the last time.

"Stop calling him that!" Mrs. Maloney barks, her voice jerking me from my thoughts as she yanks Emily away from me. "You have no father anymore." She swats Emily's hand as she cries harder. "And stop crying!" Emily quickly dries her eyes on her sleeve as her grandmother keeps scolding. "You're a big girl!"

Mrs. Maloney turns to me. "Thank you, Mr. Hockley, for all you have done." I detect a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she hands Emily's doll back to me but pretend not to notice. She grabs Emily's hand and I stare after them as the door slams behind them. What have I just done?

Dorothy whimpers suddenly, her big bug eyes glaring reproachfully as I turn to face the remaining members of my family…Annelise sobbing into a handkerchief, Johnathan clutching at his mother's skirt crying for his Emmy to come back. I can't blame them a bit; they all lost someone too…a friend, a sister, a daughter. I pull them close, burying my face in Annelise's hair as once again tears threaten; I know they need me to be strong for them now…seeing me fall apart would only frighten them. I hold her so tight, I'm surprised she can still breathe…I'm afraid if I let her go, I'll lose her too.

The door to Emily's room is wide open as I peer inside, everything exactly as she left it …except someone has placed Rose back on the bed. Dorothy's ears perk up and she looks inquisitively at me as I sit at the foot of the bed; she crawls into my lap but I don't have the heart to push her away this time.

I've lost my daughter, my mind echoes as the tears I've fought back all day finally start to fall. I pick up Emily's battered old doll, clutching it to my chest as I sob. The memories come rushing back…the first time she smiled at me, the first time I held her, the first time she said she loved me. I still half-expect her to burst through that door at any moment and hug me the way she always did when she saw me sad, but I know she won't. She's lost, I have to remind myself. Lost, but not gone, not like my mother, not like Rose…that's the only comfort I can find in all this. Maybe one day when she's old enough, if she still loves me then, she'll come back.