Hal took out his notepad and fixed his eyes on Katherine. "So our man Wilkes—you've met him before?"

"I never officially met him." Katherine frowned. "But I did catch a glimpse of him conspiring with Alistair right after Julian and Eve's son was born."

Eve inhaled sharply; tears sprang to the corners of her eyes.

Julian swallowed hard and squeezed her hand.

"Would you recognize him if you saw him, Mrs. Crane?" Hal asked.

"Oh, yes," Katherine answered. "It took me years of searching through Alistair's private papers to figure out the man's name, but I never will forget his face. It's burned into my brain." Katherine's voice dropped; her eyes watered and flew to Eve's. "How do you forget the face of a man who rips a babe away from its mother?"

Luis shifted in his seat and curled his fingers around the side of Sheridan's belly; Sheridan bit down on her lower lip and laced her fingers through his.

"I'm going to have my team run a search for potentially relevant government-issued photo IDs," Hal said. "When we come up with some matches, I'd like you to look at them, Mrs. Crane."

"Of course," Katherine nodded.

"Until that time, we must keep this information between the six of us in this room and Chief Bennett," Hal said.

"Believe me, Hal, we want this kept quiet," Julian said. "We don't know how many people my father still has working for him out there. We're not going to do anything that might put our son in danger."

"I knew you'd feel that way." Hal clicked his pen shut and tucked it into his pocket. "Rest assured—we're doing everything we can to keep a lid on this, not only for your son's sake, but also to ensure the success of our investigation. Believe me—once this is all over—we will have brought Alistair Crane down."


Gwen squealed with delight as Hank whipped her around the pond. "Hank, you're going too fast!" she laughed, grinning as they rounded a corner.

"Come on! It's a race!" Hank laughed. "I know you can keep up with me."

"I don't know if I can. . . . Oh!" Gwen slipped, tugging Hank down with her as she fell onto the ice.

Hank landed on top of her; he and Gwen burst out laughing.

"Okay, maybe I was going too fast," Hank grinned, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"I'm going to get you for that, Hank Bennett." Smiling, Gwen fisted a snowball.

"Not this time!" Hank grinned, pushing her arm back to the ground.

Gwen laughed harder; her free hand clutched her stomach.

Hank kissed her lips.

Gasping for air, Gwen kissed him back and then cradled his face in her hands. "I can't remember the last time I had this much fun, Hank."

"Neither can I, Gwen." Hank's chest swelled with love. "When I'm with you, I just forget everything else."

Gwen smiled at him, tears welling in her eyes. "I know exactly what you mean, Hank."


Katherine followed her daughter out into the hallway. "Sheridan, how are you holding up?"

"Me?" Sheridan turned around. "I'm all right. Julian and Eve are the ones I'm worried about."

"Still, hearing what your father did to your brother's child couldn't have been easy for you, darling."

"It wasn't easy," Sheridan admitted, "but I'm used to living under Father's thumb."

"I wish that you weren't." Katherine frowned.

"Yes, well, it is what it is." Sheridan rubbed her belly. "If you'll excuse me, Mother, I think I need to lie down for a few minutes."

"Sheridan, what wrong?" Katherine stopped her with a touch to her wrist.

"Nothing, Mother." Sheridan fought back tears.

"Sheridan, I'm your mother—I know you better than that."

Taking Sheridan by the hand, Katherine led her to the sofa in the solarium.

Sitting down with her daughter, Katherine wrapped one arm around Sheridan's shoulder and pulled her in close. "Do you remember when you were little, you and I used to sit here and watch the snow fall?"

Sheridan nodded and cuddled in closer to her mother. "I remember every moment I had with you."

"Those days we used to sit here—they were magical, weren't they, darling?"

"Yes, they were." Sheridan's voice choked with emotion. "I've missed you so much, Mother."

"I've missed you, too." Tears welling in her eyes, Katherine kissed the top of Sheridan's head. "I missed out on so many moments with you, but that's nothing compared to what you went through. You grew up without a mother, without anyone to comfort and love you, without someone to chase all the bad things away . . ."

A tear spilled down Sheridan's cheek.

Katherine rubbed her arm. "Sheridan, darling, what's wrong?"

"I . . . I have something I want to ask you." Sheridan's eyes fell to the floor, her voice quieting. "But, I'm . . . I'm not sure if I should. . . . I don't want to stir up any traumatic memories for you."

"Is this about your father?" Katherine asked.

Sheridan nodded softly. "It's about something he told me about my birth—something he's always held over my head."

"What did he tell you?" Katherine sat up. "Whatever he said, I'm sure it was nothing but lies. You deserve to know the truth."

Her brow creased with worry, Sheridan's eyes inched back up to her mother's. "But isn't talking about Father hard for you? The last thing I want to do is to say anything that might upset you."

"Sheridan, I want you to listen to me." Katherine turned to face her. "You are not responsible for my emotions or happiness—or your father's for that matter."

Sheridan searched her mother's eyes.

"Go ahead—ask me whatever you need to, darling." Katherine lifted her chin. "If your question stirs up upsetting memories for me, that's my issue to deal with—not yours."

"That sounds like something my therapist would say," Sheridan said.

Katherine smiled and smoothed back Sheridan's hair. "She sounds like a wise woman."

"Yes, she is . . ." Sheridan's voice trailed off.

"Sheridan," Katherine pleaded, "please tell me what's bothering you."

Sheridan looked at her mother and took a deep breath in. "Father always blamed me for your death, Mother. He said that giving birth to me permanently weakened you."

"Oh, Sheridan," Katherine gasped, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. "That was a bald-faced lie."

Sheridan burst into sobs, resting her cheek on her mother's shoulder. "I've lived my entire life with that guilt. At one point, it nearly destroyed me. And now, as my due date is getting closer, I'm becoming completely terrified that something is going to happen to me."

"Sheridan." Katherine sat back and grabbed her hands. "I want you to listen to me. What your father told you is not true. If anything, giving birth to you made my will stronger—from the second I saw your darling little face, I found a reason to live again."

"Are you sure about that, Mother?" Sheridan's lower lip trembled.

"I'm absolutely positive, Sheridan."

"Still . . . what if something happens to me when I'm giving birth to my daughter?" Sheridan curled her fingers around her belly. "What if she grows up feeling all alone? What if she doesn't feel loved?"

"Oh, Sheridan, do you really believe that Luis would let that happen?" Katherine squeezed Sheridan's free hand. "That he, his family—or Julian and I for that matter—would ever let your daughter feel alone?"

"No," Sheridan whispered, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "But I'm just so scared, Mother."

"Don't be." Katherine embraced her. "Nothing's going to happen to you or the sweet little baby you're carrying inside of you. Don't let your father's lies make you doubt yourself—or all of the love you have in your life."