Hi, everyone. We're getting to the end. Sorry for the long wait between updates but this flu bug meant it when it said no eating, no writing, no fun for a month! But I'm on the mends and hope you're still interested enough to read this latest chapter. Thank you all for your continued interest.

vvvv

'God! Me and my big mouth,' Jo thought to herself. She guiltily recalled how she'd teased Henry before the premiere of the mini-series on his family's past fortunes, but because of "bad choices" had lost them by the 1970's per the network's synopsis prior to its airing.

During the commercial break, the group discussed some of what they'd seen so far, chiefly Raymond, Jr.'s apparent suicide.

"Hope his suicide is one of the things that didn't really happen," Lucas said. "I mean, he might have lived to a ripe old age," he speculated hopefully.

"Except I remember hearing something about that," Reece said, sadness and reluctance in her voice. She appeared to have trouble putting together the pieces of an elusive memory, then appeared to perk up. "I was 12 years old," she began. "My Uncle Jimmy worked as a cook in the kitchen of a fancy hotel - can't remember which one - but he came home one day telling us about one of the guests who'd taken his own life." She eyed Henry and Abe apologetically. "It, it could have been a totally different person, though."

"How sad," Jo said, shaking her head. "Murder is bad enough but suicide is so much sadder. And selfish," she declared. "Guess a person has to think they're at the end of their rope to do something like that." Her luxuriant locks bounced as she shook her head and delivered the rest of her condemnation.

"All they're thinking about is themselves. Not about the people left behind. The people who love them and who will be heartbroken once they're not around anymore."

Henry cringed, recalling his own dark periods in his life when he'd sought to end his life over and over without success. He hadn't shared those times with her yet and hoped never to do so. Abe only knew of some of his suicide attempts after Abigail had left. The desire to end a life dealt one too many painful blows was all too familiar to him. He could totally relate to the despondency poor Raymond, Jr., must have felt. But, thankfully, his son - his wonderful, patient, long-suffering son - had managed to pull him out of that emotional pit after Abigail's departure from their lives. The discussion lingered on the suicide and the probable aftermath for a few minutes longer, then Mike straightened up as if having remembered something.

"Hey, Doc, what about that, uh, that English Lord you guys went to visit? Your ... cousin? Heard he was in a bad way. So, how's he doing now?"

"Oh, yeah," Lucas chimed in. "That couple in the garden must have been his and Cynthia's parents, right?"

"Actually, he and Cynthia are my, uh, several times great-grand-nephew and niece." Henry grinned as they all processed, or attempted to process that. "He's doing great. Says he's feeling better than he has in years," he added, smiling and bobbing his head.

"Yeah," Lucas added, knowingly.

Mike frowned and put his fist on one hip. "Now, how exactly would you know? You weren't there."

Lucas' smile trembled a bit beneath a growing blush as he lowered his eyes and his voice. "Well, uh, h-his sister, Cynthia told me." He recovered enough to meet the surprised gazes of the others. "She hit me up on Twitter. She's not so bad," he chuckled, shrugging. "In fact, she's great. Plus she's hot," he added. His smile flattened out and his eyes widened as if in a trance. "Imagine if she and I got together," he whispered, "I'd become a member of your family, Henry."

Henry opened his mouth slightly, slowly shifting his wide-eyed gaze from Lucas to Jo, then to Abe, finally bending his head down and giving in to a slight smile. "Ah ... well ... wouldn't that be something." Jo managed to contain her smile but pressed her fingers into Henry's arm to remind him to control his tongue.

"And, yes, Lucas, Lawrence and Amanda were their parents' names."

"Hey," Abe said, pointing to the TV. "We're back from commercial." They all turned their attention to the resumption of the program and an accompanying narrative.

1979 to 1984 ...

The show resumes as Lawrence, an author, and Amanda, a former TV cooking show host, live an extremely happy and comfortable married life with their small son, Henry. They welcome a baby girl in 1984 and name her Cynthia. Like her older brother, she's absolutely adorable, nearly the spitting image of her young mother. Her parents breathe a sigh of relief when doctors inform them that she has not been born with any of the troubling ailments that beset her older brother.

The scene advances a few years to find the busy, young family dividing their time between work, play, and numerous doctor visits and hospital stays for their young son, Henry. One night, his mother, Mandy, kneels near his bed, clutching his hand and crying softly while she prays. Unbeknownst to her, three-year-old Cynthia, awoken by her mother's sobs and prayers, stands up in her crib and listens. The little girl has heard the prayer often before and would hear it often again and again.

"Please, Lord, oh, Lord (sobs) Henry (sobs) please get better. Oh, my little boy ... so much of life ahead of you, so many things to live for (sobs). Let him live (sobs) Lord (unintelligible and sobs) Henry deserves better than all of this sickness (sobs) piled up one after the other on such, such a small, frail body... "

Little Cynthia's eyes well up with tears and her lower lip puckers out as she drops down to a sitting position in her crib and whines, "Please, Lord Henry get better. Let Mummy get happy again." Her whinings become loud wails, attracting her mother's attention, who leaves her sleeping son to see after her distraught daughter. She rushes into the next bedroom, quickly brushing her tears from her face, and scoops the crying child up into her arms. She sits in the rocking chair near the crib and attempts to comfort and quiet her. After a few moments of petting and shushing, the child quiets down. Mandy smiles down at Cynthia and gently brushes the tears off of the little girl's face.

"Did you have a bad dream, honey?" Mandy asks then plants a kiss on her forehead, hugging her close again.

"No. You were crying over Lord Henry," Cynthia croakingly replies.

Mandy frowns in confusion, then a smile of realization overtakes her features. "Oh, honey, you see, I was - "

"Mummy," Cynthia interrupts, agitated. "Don't let Lord Henry diiiieeee!" Her words erupt into loud wails again and Mandy cuddles her close, rocking and shushing her. She feels it's better to let the explanation go for now. Getting her distraught child quieted down and to sleep is the main priority at this moment. She can't help but smile anyway at the workings of a child's innocent mind when trying to comprehend all they hear and see in the fast-moving world around them. The scene ends with Mandy humming a lullaby and rocking Cynthia as sleep finally begins to overtake her.

[Everyone in the room chuckled and shook their heads, realizing that the "Lord" before Henry's name was merely some kind of childhood nickname. Everyone, that is, except Lucas. He sat pouting and frowning at the TV screen, blurting out his disappointment that Henry's "not a real Lord".

"I should have known, though, since Cynthia is not Lady Cynthia."

"Well, there's actually more to it than that, Lucas," Henry began before Abe cut him off.

"And we'll be very happy to hear it after the show is over," he said, giving his father a very pointed look and motioning towards the TV screen. "We got action, Pops."

Henry, all too familiar with his son's save-it-for-later-please look, grunted out a sigh but gave his attention back to the TV show.]

1989 ...

Larry, recently returned from a failed business trip to the vineyards still held by the Morgan family in the south of France, is hustling off once again to meet with a tour guide and historian in Cardiff, Wales. He's gathering information for his latest book that will chronicle his Morgan family from their earliest beginnings up to the present day. He's convinced Mandy to take a break from the children for a few hours and accompany him. The break will do both of them good, he tells her and, reluctantly, she agrees but reads a long list of last-minute instructions to Steadham, the nurse, and the rest of the household staff. Steadham, ever the dutiful servant and gentleman, listens patiently, bowing his head occasionally with a "Yes, Madam". All the while, Larry is urging his wife to get in the car and after an elongated farewell, she takes her seat beside him in the backseat of the limousine. Sighs of obvious relief are breathed on both sides of the long farewell by him and by Steadham and the staff. As they make their way to the airport, he pats her hand and reminds her that their children are in good hands with Steadham in charge.

"I expect this venture to be more fruitful than my recent trip to the family vineyards," he grimly states. "No pun intended."

"That bad?" Mandy asks although she's pretty sure of his answer.

He grimaces again and shakes his head. "All Antoine could speak of was for us to remember him and his wife, Jeannette, as possible guardians for the children if anything were to happen to you or me." He looks over at a surprised and outraged Mandy. "Can you believe that? I'm taking up my valuable time to fly over there and help him with some options on how to save the vineyard - impossible, it seems, even though I'm no real businessman - and he's only focused on our mortality."

"What ... exactly ... is he implying?" she asks, her voice rising with each word. "That something could ... happen to us? Oh, I've never liked that man!"

"That makes two of us," Larry added in agreement. "The way he mismanaged the vineyard all during his marriage to our Cousin Laura." He shakes his head again.

Mandy sighs. "Well, it's a good thing that you never loaned him any money." She looks at Larry. "Right?"

"Oh, of course!" Larry replies, frowning. "I may not have much of a head for business but at least I knew that much."

"You think that he might go off the deep end like Cousin Raymond did?" Mandy asks.

"Him?" Larry scoffs. "Not a chance. He's too greedy, too selfish. But I wouldn't put it past him to - "

Mandy grabs Larry's hand. "The way that Cousin Laura died. Falling down the stairs." She squeezes his hand. "Something about that that never sat well with me."

Larry sighs heavily and squeezes her hand back. "The authorities made a full investigation - "

"So they say," Mandy interrupts, doubt, frustration and anger reflected in her voice.

"Well," Larry begins, "My research may have uncovered something to help shed more light on the circumstances surrounding Laura's death." He meets Mandy's astonished gaze. "Yes," he nods. "Maybe enough to re-open the investigation."

"That's ... good but ... horrible at the same time," Mandy finally says. "Good that there might be some new evidence to help put Antoine away but horrible to think that her death really wasn't an accident at all." Larry squeezes her hand then hugs her around the shoulders.

"I know, Luv. I know."

The scene advances to a commercial airliner in flight, then to the couple offboarding and eventually connecting with the limousine driver sent to pick them up from the airport. The exhausted couple is on the last leg of their journey. As they both lean back in their seats and close their eyes, they are rudely awakened when their vehicle is rammed hard from behind. The camera switches between the couple being seriously jostled inside the car and the driver struggling to maintain control of it, and back to the darker, larger vehicle behind them. The headlights are so bright that they light up the inside of the limousine in front but prevent anyone from seeing the occupants of the aggressor vehicle apparently intent upon forcing them off the road.

The panicked trio in the limousine do what they can to brace themselves for each impact but the driver fails to fully negotiate a hairpin turn and it flies off the roadway down a steep embankment. It turns over and over, bursting into flames at the bottom of the embankment. The rouge vehicle still on the roadway, wastes no time hanging around and speeds away, vanishing into the darkness.

[Everyone in the room had been on the edges of their seats watching the last events play out on the screen. Jo was the first to speak.

"Oh, my gosh, Henry. Looks like they were murdered." She can't believe what she'd just seen.

"Yeah," Lucas said. "Bet it was that Antoine guy they were discussing."

"Wow. Bad business," Mike added. "Killin' his own family members just so's he can keep his business afloat. Creep!"

"And he was already a suspect in the death of his wife, remember?" Reece reminded them. "Boy, I'd sure like to know how that investigation came out."

Abe looked at his unusually silent father and asked, "Did Lord, I mean, Cousin Henry or Cynthia tell you anything about that?"

"No," he replied, still frowning at the TV but not seeing the commercials. "But Steadham did." He took in a deep breath and blinked, looking around at all of them. "You're all quite right. It was murder and the culprit was Antoine. His second wife, Jeannette, turned on him. Cut a deal with the authorities and revealed not only the plot he'd concocted to do away with Larry and Amanda but also his first wife, Laura." He sighed again and continued. "He was tried, convicted, and hanged himself in prison after only two weeks."

"Hopefully, his body didn't disappear," Lucas said. He spread his hands and straightened up. "Well, you know, best that he really be dead and his body is buried somewhere. He can't come back and harm anyone else."

Adam briefly flashed across Henry's thoughts. No, thankfully, he thought to himself. One troublesome immortal was enough for any world to handle. "Yes, Lucas. He's actually buried in an unmarked grave but I believe the site may be on the grounds of the vineyard."

"Ugh," Lucas said, making a face. "That means he's fertilizer for the grapes. People have been drinking him for years." He shuddered at the thought.

Mike put a fist on his hip and shot a look of tired annoyance at Lucas. "Now, you just always seem to know the wrong thing to say, don't you?!"