Temperance sat beside her daughter, quietly watching as she stared at the coffee table as if it had offended her. She was breathing through her nose, and it was obvious that she was trying to regulate her breathing. "Antonia." Temperance said, letting her daughter's name flutter from her lips, she watched her focus flick to her mother's eyes. "Why do you focus so much energy on something that never actually happened?"

Antonia closed her eyes, focused on her breathing for a moment. "There are too many variables." She said softly. "Too many variables."

"I don't understand." Temperance said, watching her daughter's eyes open, there was a flash of annoyance that quickly disappeared. "I want to, but I don't understand, please explain it to me."

"If Dad had just come back." She said, looking to her mother. "If you knew that he wasn't dead, that he was simply in the witness protection program… then I probably wouldn't be here. That's variable one. If he had been in that plane accident and had gotten someone to get rid of the man who kidnapped me before I was taken, he would have just disappeared, Mom. He would have left us, vanished. We both would have been abandoned, but the difference is, that you didn't know… only I knew that he was alive… only I would be the one that would have suffered for that loss… and Grace wouldn't be here." She said, watching her mother nod. "That's variable two."

"Antonia, it doesn't matter what could have happened if things were different. Variables don't matter in this situation, we're not talking in terms of science, this is reality. This is what actually happened, and life is far too short to hold grudges, and be angry about decisions that weren't made. He did come back to us. And you are here, and Grace is here. That's the only thing that matters." Temperance said softly, watching Antonia shake her head.

"Yes, but that's not what he chose, Mom." She said, pointing into the air angrily. "That wasn't his choice. He didn't know where Parker was, but he knew where we were, but he was choosing to stay away. He was choosing to leave us behind in your misery. He would have caused my misery when he would stop coming to see me. It was his choice until it wasn't his choice anymore. How can you not be angry at him about that?" She asked coldly.

"Because I spent almost five horribly lonely years without him, Antonia. I was angry at him for dying, but when he came home, I wasn't about to waste one more second being angry about things that I couldn't control. He was alive, and he was there. I knew that he had that choice, Ant. I know that he could have left for good, but he didn't… and I don't know if he really could have left. The sun rises and sets in your eyes for him, Antonia. Your Dad loves you with his entire soul, and he has proven that time and again. You know that is the truth, why are you treating him so horribly? He doesn't deserve that. What is this really about?"

"I don't know." She said with a sigh, resting her face in her hands as she shook her head. She curled her legs up beneath herself, curling into a ball, resting on the arm of the couch. "I feel so angry sometimes, at everything and everyone. I only remember bits and pieces, but what I do remember are so vivid and frightening, that when I read through the statements, that one thing just hit me." She whispered. She looked up at Temperance and sighed. "I'm not mad at Dad. I just, I want answers, and I don't always know the right questions."

"You are being reactive." Temperance said, watching Antonia look up at her. "Just as you did with Aiden."

"I felt cornered. I felt embarrassed. I felt betrayed." She whispered. "He begged me not to open the file, he told me he didn't look into it, but it isn't the action, it's the intent. He intended on looking at it, he intended on invading my privacy simply because he had the power to do so. Even if it was for a second, it was his intention, and that makes me very uncomfortable."

"Antonia, do you remember our conversation over lunch?" Temperance asked, watching as Antonia looked over at her mother. "Do you remember what your sister's advice was over the whole trust issue?"

"She wanted me to investigate further." Antonia responded.

"That's right. And what did you tell me?"

"I told you that primary sources are better, more accurate."

"Did you even have a moment of weakness? A moment, where you were tempted to do your own research? Curiosity is a natural reaction, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I…" Antonia stammered, thinking of that damned search engine cursor from earlier. "I…I'm a scientist, of course I want to gather evidence, it's in my nature."

"And Aiden is an investigator, Antonia." Temperance replied. "It's part of his job, its his strength. You can't fault the man for doing his job. He didn't mean to hurt you, and I understand that your past is a very, very sensitive thing to discuss, but if you trust him, if you love him… you were probably going to tell him about it anyway. Your past is as much about who you are now as your genetics and your upbringing. It's why you're so strong willed and hard headed, it's why you're passionate and cautious."

"It's why I can't sleep for longer than three hours in a row at night, or ride in an elevator without breaking into a cold sweat. It's a curse. My past is my curse."

"It doesn't have to be. For too long, my past was my curse, Antonia. I missed out on a lot of things because of it."

"Like what?" She sighed.

"Like telling your father before he died… that I loved him." Temperance admitted. "If I wasn't so afraid of his rejection or abandonment, I would have told him earlier. I would have told him before he had gotten on that plane. I would have told him months earlier, but I didn't, and I suffered for that. I convinced myself that I had more time, and I didn't. Life could be over in a second, Antonia, and you can't live it as if it's a long term plan.

"Do you really think that telling him before he left that day would have made a difference?" Antonia asked.

"I do. I mean, things worked out in the end, but how different would it have been if I knew that he knew the truth before he was gone." Temperance shrugged. "It could have made it better, I would have rested easier, knowing that he knew he was loved. I wouldn't have felt as much guilt. We all have a past, Antonia. We can either learn from it and move forward, or we can live in it and die in it, alone."

"But how can I trust him?" She whispered.

"You do trust him. You trust him more than you trust anyone, Antonia. I would even bet that you trust him more than you trust your father." She said, watching Antonia's face twist to a scowl. "You had three choices when you saw that file, Ant. You could have demanded he put it back." She said, watching her pointedly. "You could have taken it with you, though unadvised and illegal, it was inherently a choice, or you could have done what you did, which was be straight with him and let him have a taste of the whole situation. You put all that pain, all of that frustration, all of that fear that you've been holding inside for all of these years out on the table. You saw the photos, read the statements. You've never talked about it with anyone, Antonia, not even your father or me. But for Aiden, you showed him a part of you that you've kept locked in your soul for far too long. You love him, and you trust him with your life, Antonia." Temperance said, watching her daughter's eyes search hers, watching as they filled with tears.

"I…" Antonia whispered. "Mom, I…think I made a horrible mistake."

"Aiden loves you, sweetheart. He's not going to give up."

"You don't know that." Antonia whispered.

Temperance pulled her phone from her pocket and handed it to Antonia, watching as she gave her a strange look. "What?"

Temperance nodded toward the phone as Antonia looked down at it. There were three messages from Aiden. The first said, "Doctor Brennan, I messed up." The second said, "Please tell her I'm sorry." The third said. "Please tell her I love her."

Antonia looked up at her mother, tears in her eyes as she took a slow, deep breath. "Mom."

"He loves you, and he's sorry." She said, reaching out to touch her daughter's cheek. "It takes a brave man to admit he's wrong, a strong man to admit he's sorry, and a bold man to admit it to his girlfriend's mother." Temperance said, watching as Antonia took a deep breath. "He must know you're here and safe." She whispered. "Go upstairs, get some rest, and tomorrow we'll tackle this, okay?"

"Okay." Antonia nodded, handing her mother's phone back to her, her eyes focusing on her hands.

"Hang on a second." Temperance said softly as she stood up and walked toward the bookcase in the room, scanning the books quickly, she pulled one from the shelf. Antonia watched her as she flipped through the pages quickly, pulling an envelope from within the pages. She placed the book back in the bookcase and turned around. She walked back to Antonia and crouched in front of her, holding the envelope in her hand, she showed it to her. Her name was scrawled across it in Booth's messy handwriting, and it was yellowed with age, a crease down the center from where it had been folded. She handed it to Antonia, who held it in her fingertips gingerly and looked at it, and then looked back up at her mother.

"This is from your Dad." She said softly. "It might answer some of your questions." She touched her daughter's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I love you very much, my baby girl, and I want nothing more than for you to feel happy and safe. I'm glad you came here when you felt you needed it."

"I am too." Antonia whispered, leaning forward to wrap her arms around her mother tightly. "I love you, Mom. I love you so much."

"Go get some sleep." Temperance whispered. Antonia nodded as she pulled from the hug, and they both stood up. Antonia held her mother's hand for a moment longer, before she walked toward the stairs, and quietly ascended them. She turned as she reached the fourth step, and noticed her mother scoop up her keys and head into the kitchen with them. After she made it to the stop step, she paused, glancing down the hallway at her parent's bedroom. The door was open a crack, a soft light from inside escaped into the hallway, an olive branch of sorts, to let her know that though he had been upset, he wasn't angry.

"I love you, Dad." She said softly down the hall, and heard the soft rumble of his reply, warming her heart a bit as she opened the door to her old bedroom. She entered the bedroom and turned on the light, holding the envelope in her hand securely as she turned and closed the door behind her. She walked to the bed and sat down, listening to the gentle groan of the springs as she flipped the envelope in her hand, running her finger along the crease in the middle. She listened for a moment to the sound of her mother stepping up the stairs and walking down the hallway, lifting her head when she heard her father's voice, and her mother's muffled response through the house, and a gentle laugh that made her feel even more at home. She sighed as she stood up, walking across the room, she turned on the bedside table light, and then shuffled toward the switch for the main light, turning it off. The room was bathed in a gentle blue from the cloudless sky and the moon that had risen, sending her toward the window as if it were beckoning her. Her hands moved across the curtains, pulling them from the window pane as she looked out at the sky for a moment, listening to the quiet of the house. She sighed as she looked at the envelope again, her finger running again over the top of it as her eyes were brought to a slight movement in the backyard.

She almost gasped at the sight, the tall lanky man sitting awkwardly on the swingset, his eyes staring up at her window as she gazed down at him. Her mind flashed to another time and place for a split second, and a gentle smile rose on her lips as she felt a lump in her throat. She put her hand on the window, watching as he stopped moving the swing, and just watched her. He lifted his hand gently to beckon her, and for a moment she just watched him, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She held up her finger to indicate that she would come down in a moment, and then very quickly turned from the window and made her way downstairs.