Luis shook Mike's hand and sat down at the diner's corner table. "Thank you for driving up to meet us," he said, smiling at Mike and Dalla. "Sheridan's due date is getting really close, so we need to stay close to home."
"No problem," Dalla smiled. "You must be getting excited."
"Oh, trust me, we are." Sheridan smiled and smoothed her hand over her belly. "Luis must be getting so sick of my complaining—I'm surprised he didn't leave me at home."
Luis wrapped one arm around Sheridan and rubbed her arm. "You're not complaining that much, Sheridan. You're just uncomfortable. I completely understand that."
"Yes," Mike agreed, "and I want you to know how much I appreciate both of you agreeing to talk to me about this before introducing me to the people you think are my parents—especially when you've got so many other important things going on in your life. This entire situation is just really overwhelming to me—suddenly, it's all happening really fast."
"Believe me, I understand how that feels," Sheridan laughed nervously—curling her fingers around the side of her belly. "And I want you to know that we just want to give you information, Mike—we're not trying to pressure you in any way."
"Why would I feel like you're trying to pressure me?" Mike asked. "Is it because you think you know my parents, like Luis said on the phone?"
"Partially . . ." Sheridan shifted in her seat and tucked her fingers under her legs. "But, Mike, it's more than that."
"What do you mean?" Mike asked.
"I don't even know where to begin with this," Sheridan said.
Luis rubbed her arm. "Just take your time, Sheridan."
A lump settled in Sheridan's throat. How was she going to tell Mike this? If he did turn out to be Julian and Eve's son, how on earth could she tell him what Alistair had done to him—just because of the color of his skin?
"Sheridan, are you okay?" Dalla asked. "You look like you're really uncomfortable."
"I am," Sheridan admitted, threading her fingers through Luis's, "but probably not for the reason you're thinking."
"Whatever it is, please tell me," Mike said. "I want to know the truth."
Sheridan looked at Luis.
Luis squeezed her hand.
Suppressing a wave of nausea, Sheridan took a deep breath in and looked at Mike. "Mike, if you are who we think you are . . . it's very possible that I am your aunt."
"Julian, is something wrong?" Ethan placed the file he was carrying on Julian's desk. "You look like you're a million miles away."
"That's because I am, Ethan." Julian looked at him. "But I don't want it to interfere with this day. I'm so pleased that you decided to rejoin Crane Industries—to work here beside me again."
"Thank you for asking me," Ethan said.
"You've grown into such an admirable young man." Julian frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "I wish I could take some credit for that."
"You may not have been really involved in raising me," Ethan said, "but I know Mother didn't really give you a chance."
"Thank you, Ethan." Julian bowed his head. "I can't tell you how much it means to me that you appreciate that—and that you're giving me this chance."
Eve adjusted the strap of her purse as Whitney unlocked the door to the apartment TC was renting.
She could do this.
She could help Whitney find the strength to follow her own dreams. She could be the type of mother she'd always wanted to have and be: No matter how much TC tried to convince her to cave, she would stand behind her daughter.
After all, she had spent a lifetime squashing her own dreams to fit into other people's boxes.
She would be damned if Whitney was going to do the same.
She was going to channel all the pressure and anxiety she had inflicted upon herself for years into something positive for a change—the strength and determination to ensure that her daughter felt empowered to make her own life choices.
Whitney turned to her. "Are . . . are you ready, Mom?"
"Yes, I am." Eve straightened her back. "And whatever happens, just remember—your life belongs to you."
"Thank you, Mom." Whitney's voice cracked.
"There's no need to thank me." Her eyes glistening, Eve cupped her daughter's face. "You have more courage than you realize, Whitney—no matter what you ultimately decide, make sure it's the right choice for you."
"What?" Mike gasped. "You mean, your brother—the one I met at the station—that he could be my father?"
Sheridan nodded and swallowed hard. "That's . . . that's exactly what I'm trying to say."
Luis rubbed Sheridan's back and looked directly at Mike. "Eve—the woman who was with him—she was his girlfriend back then. She was told that the baby she conceived with Julian died at birth—she's been mourning his loss for years."
Mike rubbed his chin and shook his head. "I don't understand."
"This is the really hard part," Sheridan said. "My father didn't approve of Julian having an interracial relationship. Because of that, he not only pressured Julian into abandoning Eve while she was pregnant—but he also tried to get rid of their baby the second he was born."
Mike's eyes widened with horror; his jaw went slack.
Tears slipping down her cheeks, Sheridan buried her head in her hands. "Eve was told by the hospital staff that her son had died—she had absolutely no reason to suspect that he had actually been kidnapped and placed into foster care."
Mike blinked rapidly; his eyes welled with tears. "No offense to your family, Sheridan—but what kind of people are they?"
Sheridan looked up. "No offense taken—believe me, I'm as horrified as you are."
"Why didn't your brother stop this?" Mike asked. "How could he let this happen?"
