"All right—I'm listening, Mom." Whitney folded her arms in front of her chest. "What did you want to say to me?"

"Thank you for taking a walk with me," Eve said softly, "—for hearing me out. I hope you know how sorry I am for everything that's happened . . ."

"You've already said that," Whitney scowled.

"I know." Eve choked back a sob. "I'm sorry—I don't quite know how to do this."

"What if you start by being honest?" Whitney countered. "By telling me the truth from start to finish? By explaining to me how you could have gotten involved with a man like Julian Crane in the first place—or had a baby with him."

"Whitney, I don't know if going into all the details would be appropriate." A tear slipped down Eve's cheek. "I know you're an adult now, but you're still my daughter . . ."

"Whatever the truth is, I can handle it," Whitney said. "I just can't keep living with all of these secrets and lies."

"I know you can't." Eve closed her eyes. "This is just really hard for me."

"I know it is." Whitney's voice cracked. "It's just that living like this—knowing that my entire world could be blown up again by one of your secrets—it's really, really hard for me, too."

Eve looked up, tears in her eyes. "I know it is, Whitney. I should have told you the entire truth when it first came out. I just didn't want you or your sister to repeat my mistakes—to inadvertently give you permission to do all the things I did."

"How do you know that we'd repeat them?" Whitney cried. "And how are we supposed to avoid making the same mistakes you did if we don't even know what happened?"

"You're right." Eve inhaled. "And I know you both have good heads on your shoulders."

"Then why can't you trust us with the truth?" Whitney pleaded. "As you said, I'm an adult now. Why can't you at least be honest with me?"


Hank picked up the ring and examined it. It was definitely the best he could afford.

Yes, he'd have to scrimp and save for this one, too, but he wouldn't have to mortgage off his firstborn child.

Hank traced his fingers along the intricately crafted band, pausing to admire the unusual setting. Maybe it wasn't the biggest ring, but it was unique and special—just like Gwen, herself.

Gwen would like this, wouldn't she? Yes, it was probably nowhere near as big as the one Ethan had given her, but it had character.

"Well, what do you think?" Jimmy asked, returning to his spot behind the counter. "Is this the one?"

Hank looked up. "Yes, I think it is." Reaching into his pocket, Hank pulled out some cash. "Will this do for a down payment for now until I can get you the rest?"

Jimmy studied the money in Hank's hand. "It's less than what I usually ask for."

"Please—can you help me out?" Hank's brow creased. "I know I haven't always been reliable with money, but, I promise you—that has changed."

"I believe you, Hank," Jimmy said. "It's just that I have a couple of people interested in this ring and a mortgage to pay."

"I get that," Hank sighed, his voice defeated. "I wish I could give you more, but this is all that I have. I'm doing my best, Jimmy, but it's not easy . . ."

"I know it isn't." Jimmy twisted his lips for a second and then tapped his fingers on the counter. "I'll tell you what—if you can promise me that you'll come up with the rest of the down payment over the next four weeks, I'll put this on hold for you."

"Really?" Hank's heart lit up with hope. "I'd really appreciate that, man."

"It's obvious that this girl means something special to you." Jimmy patted Hank's arm. "Come back to me with whatever you have in a month, and we'll take it from there. Just do the best that you can."


Why couldn't she trust Whitney with the truth? That was a good question.

Eve knew that she and TC had raised their daughters right—they had every reason to be proud of them.

Was it really appropriate to tell this story to her nineteen-year-old daughter, though? She was barely a legal adult.

Yet, if she didn't start treating Whitney as a grown woman who was capable of taking the information she was given and making her own life choices—she wouldn't be helping her at all.

That was why she had never reached out to her own parents after they abandoned her, wasn't it? They wouldn't respect her right to live her own life or make her own decisions. They didn't want to let her have a mind of her own.

She wasn't going to make the same mistake with her own daughters.

She would trust them to make their own decisions—whether or not she agreed with them.

If her own mother hadn't been so obsessed with putting on a perfect face for the world, might she have felt closer and more connected to her? Might she have possibly felt more comfortable confiding in her before her own life spun out of control?

How had her life ended up like this? How had she not noticed that she was blindly repeating all the same patterns—making the same missteps?

She couldn't ever let Whitney feel so disconnected from her that she felt like she didn't have a mother to turn to.

She couldn't let Whitney walk away.

Eve's heart pounded in her chest.

If she ever wanted to have a relationship with Whitney again, she would have to share the details of her past that she'd always hoped would stay hidden.

She had to be open with Whitney about all of her mistakes.