Luis rubbed Sheridan's arms. "Are you sure you're up to seeing your father right now?"

"I'm positive," Sheridan insisted. "My father's only going to be here with the Harmony PD until the Feds come to get him tomorrow. I might not get another chance to do this for a while."

"I'll leave you two alone," Sam said, backing away. "I'll be at my desk if you need me."

"Thanks, Sam," Luis said, turning back to Sheridan as Sam walked away. "Sheridan, I'm not so sure this is such a great idea."

"Why not?" Sheridan asked, gently supporting her belly. "The worst thing it could do is put me into labor, and, obviously, I'd welcome that right now."

"I just hate how upset he gets you." Luis brushed the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks. "I don't want to see you hurt again."

"That's why I have to do this, Luis." Sheridan's voice filled with resolve. "I've got to prove to myself that I'm stronger than anything he can say or do to me—that I'm done with him hurting me."


TC's eyes darted to the chair in front of Eve's desk and then back up at her.

Eve looked at him and motioned to the chair. "Please, TC . . . sit down."

"Thank . . . thank you." TC seated himself, his eyes dropping to his lap.

Eve studied him for a moment. "I've heard that your college visits with Whitney have been going well."

"Yes, they have." TC's eyes flew up to hers. "That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Eve raised her brows.

TC fiddled with his thumbs. "It's just that . . . seeing how happy Whitney has been each time we visit a new school . . . it's made me realize how wrong I was to try to keep her from doing this—that I've been wrong about so many things."

TC looked Eve straight in the eye. "I shouldn't have tried to stop Whitney from following her heart . . . shouldn't have shut you out when you first told me about your past with Julian . . ."

A pocket of air swelled in Eve's chest. "TC, I know that I hurt you."

"Yes, but that doesn't excuse what I did." Sighing, TC ran one hand over his chin. "I couldn't get past the betrayal I felt for long enough to even let you explain what happened; I threw away our marriage, instead."

"I wish I'd been honest with you from the beginning of our relationship," Eve said.

TC shook his head. "Yes, well, I didn't make that easy for you."

Tears sprang to Eve's eyes. "Thank . . . thank you for saying that."

"I mean it, Eve," TC said. "Of all the things I regret in my life, losing you tops the list."

"You haven't completely lost me, TC." Eve's voice thickened with emotion. "Our divorce may be getting finalized soon, but we'll always share two beautiful girls—I'll always love you for that."

"But you're in love with Julian now . . ." TC surmised.

Eve blinked back tears, her voice quieting. "I'm not going to lie to you."

"I never should have put you in a position where you felt like you had to," TC sighed. "That's on no one but me."

"We've both made mistakes," Eve whispered.

TC looked into her eyes. "We have to stop making them, Eve."

"Yes, we do." Eve cleared her throat. "I know this may seem impossible right now, but I'd like it if, one day, we could be friends again."

"I'd like that, too." TC bowed his head. "These past few weeks—taking Whitney for college visits—it's killed me that you haven't been there, too . . . that we're not doing this as a family."

Hope sparked in Eve's chest. "I'd love to come along—but I don't want to get in the way . . ."

"You wouldn't be getting in anyone's way." TC looked up at her. "I know things have been difficult between us, Eve, but I'd really like it if you would join us."

A tear slipped down Eve's cheek. "Are . . . are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I am." TC shifted his weight in his seat. "And I know Whitney wants you to come, too."

"Well, as long as you're sure . . ."

Folding his hands together, TC nodded.

Eve smiled at him, her eyes glistening. Reaching across the desk, she clasped her hands around his and squeezed them. "Thank you for inviting me then—I'd really like that, TC."


Gwen stepped into the arcade and glanced around.

Within seconds, a man approached her. "Are you Gwen Hotchkiss?"

"Yes . . . how did you know?" Gwen shook her head. "I'm looking for Hank Bennett. Do you know if he's here?"

"Just please come with me," the man said.

Gwen's brow furrowed as she followed him across the room and they stopped in front of the balloon-popping booth.

The man turned to her and handed her a few darts. "Go on," he smiled. "Take your best shot."

"O . . . okay . . ." Gwen stammered, turning to the board and aiming.

"One, two, three . . ." Gwen counted aloud as she hit each target, laughing when she popped the fourth balloon. This was almost too easy without Hank distracting her. Maybe she was finally ready to challenge him to a rematch.

On the fifth pop, a small piece of paper came flying out of the balloon. The attendant caught it and handed it to her.

Gwen's smile grew as she read the words in front of her:

SHMILY. I knew you could beat me. But the surprises are hardly over. Go to the spot where we replaced some bad memories with some happy new ones and order yourself something warm to drink. I promise you won't regret it.

Gwen clutched the paper to her chest, her heart swelling with excitement.

Hank was up to something—that was for sure. Might it really be what she thought it was? Might this really be happening?


Sheridan twisted her wedding ring around her finger as she walked into the isolated area where Sam was keeping her father. She could do this—she had to do this; she had to put all of this behind her.

She had to teach herself to have her own back for her daughter's sake. She had to learn it for her own.

"You've got this, Sheridan. You can do this," she reassured herself. "You're not a scared little girl seeking your father's approval anymore—he's got nothing to hold over you."

Steeling her back, Sheridan turned the corner to Alistair's cell.

Alistair looked up at her.

Sheridan's heart jumped in her chest.

She could do this. She had to do this.

She had to see this through.

Yet she couldn't help but shiver as her father gave her a once-over.

What if she was underestimating his power to hurt her? What if she was underestimating herself?

As if reading her mind, Alistair scoffed and rubbed his chin. "Still pregnant with Lopez-Fitzgerald's brat, I see."

Summoning every last ounce of strength she had inside of her, Sheridan curled her fingers around her belly. "Don't speak about my daughter that way."

"Daughter?" Alistair snorted and shook his head. "Yet another worthless female . . ."

"My daughter's not worthless." Sheridan's heart began to race. "Neither am I, Father."

Alistair laughed. "Well, that's up for debate."

Her heart thudding in her chest, Sheridan stepped forward and grasped the bars of his cell. "How can you treat me this way?"

Alistair raised his brows. "Treat you how, Sheridan?"

"Like I'm not even your daughter." Sheridan fought back tears. "Like you don't care about me at all—like you don't even care if I'm dead or alive."

Alistair chuckled, his eyes narrowing on hers. "Oh, believe me, I cared a lot about that for quite some time. Now, though, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. That Dudley Do-Right husband of yours has already uncovered most of my secrets."

"That's right." Sheridan's cheeks flushed. "You do care whether or not I die—you've already tried to kill me at least three times—and those are just the ones that I know of."

"Don't take it personally, dear." Alistair chuckled again. "I was just trying to protect the family."

"Protect the family?" Sheridan choked back a sob. "I am your family, Father!"

"You were . . . until you betrayed me."

"I betrayed you?" Sheridan's heart dropped to her stomach. "You've done nothing but hurt me for years. You ripped Mother away from me and convinced me I'd killed her. You tried to trick me into thinking that Luis was using me and cheating on me . . . that he was beating up another woman. And that's not even mentioning the fact that you didn't even bother to show up at my funeral when everyone thought I was dead or all the times you've told me I'm worthless."

Alistair crossed his arms over his chest. "You are worthless, Sheridan. You've been nothing but a thorn in my side since the day your mother gave birth to you."

Every muscle in Sheridan's face tightened; tears sprang to her eyes. "You couldn't have always been this cruel, Father. What happened to you that caused you to act like this?"

"What happened to me? What happened to me?" Alistair growled. "YOU happened to me, Sheridan!"

Sheridan jumped back.

Springing up from his seat, Alistair strode across his cell and gripped the bars holding him in. "If you hadn't been born, your mother wouldn't have felt the need to run out on me like she did—wouldn't have felt like she had to protect her precious little girl."

"You were beating her and raping her!" Sheridan cried. "How on earth could you have expected her to stay with you even if I hadn't been born?"

"She would have stayed." Alistair shook the bars. "She knew her place was with me."

Fresh tears stung the corners of Sheridan's eyes. "No, that's not true."

"Of course it's true," Alistair snarled. "Having a daughter changed her priorities. All of a sudden, protecting you was more important than being a dutiful wife to me, and, for that, I will never forgive either one of you."

"All Mother and I ever wanted was for you to love us, Father." Sheridan hiccupped.

"Cry me a river, Sheridan." Alistair threw his hands up in the air. "That's all you've ever been good for anyway."

No, Sheridan told herself. He was wrong.

He was so very wrong.

Hadn't she proven that to herself?

Steeling herself, Sheridan inhaled and stepped back toward his cell. "I understand that that's what you believe."

"Believe? Ha!" Alistair laughed. "That's what I know, Sheridan!"

Straightening her back, Sheridan gathered herself together and wiped away her tears. "You know nothing about me, Father."