Gwen fingered the edges of the photograph she was holding and put it down. Was Sheridan right? Was she really brave enough to stand up to her mother? To stand up for the kind of relationship she wanted?

Picking up the picture again, Gwen blinked back tears. This should be one of the happiest times in her life, but all she could think about was the person who was not here. The woman in the photograph, the woman who had raised her—the woman who had stood beside her when everyone else had seemingly abandoned her.

The woman she had betrayed.

But had she really betrayed her? Mother or not, Gwen knew she could have never just stood back and let her mother help Alistair take down Sheridan and Luis when they were in Mexico.

What if Sheridan and Luis had died?

She hadn't intended to get her mother in trouble when she and Hank went to Sam—she had only been trying to protect Sheridan.

She hadn't had time to think through the potential consequences that decision might have on her mother—she hadn't had time to think of much of anything.

Surely, her mother could find it in her heart to understand that one day—to move past it and be happy for her.

After all, they had had such a close relationship before everything imploded—surely, her mother wanted that back.

She wanted it back. She wanted it back so badly.

A sharp knock on the door jerked Gwen out of her thoughts.

Tucking the photo into a book, Gwen gathered herself together, crossed the room, and opened the front door.

A messenger stood in front of her, a large manila envelope and clipboard in his hands.

Gwen's mouth went dry.

"Ms. Hotchkiss?" the messenger asked.

Gwen nodded, the world around her beginning to spin. A chill rushing through her, she gripped the doorframe with one hand as the messenger handed her the envelope.

"Ms. Hotchkiss, you've been served."


Julian rang the doorbell and shifted on his feet. Was he being foolish, driving down here to offer Mike a position at Crane Industries? Why was it that making everything about business was the only way he knew how to relate to his children?

Of course, he knew the answer to that. He knew it as surely as he knew Mike was the son he and Eve had lost.

No matter what happened today, he had to figure out how to turn the family's dealings around, had to carve out a new path forward.

The Crane family couldn't go on operating like this, couldn't keep on destroying everything in its path.

He needed to usher the Crane empire into a new era. He needed to stop the abuse.

"Mr. Crane?" Mike opened the door.

Julian looked up. "Mike—it's good to see you."

Mike furrowed his brow. "It's . . . good to see you, too."

Julian fidgeted with his briefcase. "You must be wondering why I'm dropping by unexpectedly like this."

"As a matter of fact, I am." Mike scratched the back of his head. "Did the test results come in already?"

"No, they didn't. I was just hoping that you and I could talk." Julian glanced down at the ground and then back up at Mike. "I know this may seem like it's out of the blue—but I've got a business proposition for you."

"A business proposition?" Mike raised one brow.

"Yes," Julian said. "May . . . may I . . . come in?"

"Okay . . ." Mike studied him for a moment and then ushered him inside.

Julian glanced around Mike's apartment as he stepped inside, pausing to look at some pictures.

Mike picked up one of the pictures Julian was examining and smiled. "Dalla's done a great job of making our place feel like a home."

"A home." Julian frowned and rubbed his chin. "That's something you always should have had."

"I spent a lot of time wishing for a permanent one." Mike put down the picture. "But despite everything that's happened to me—I honestly can't say that I'd change anything."

"That . . . that's good," Julian stammered.

"Yes, well, I did live with some good families," Mike said, "—and I think that the struggles I've been through have made me the man that I am."

"From everything I've heard, that's a man you should be proud to be." Julian looked Mike in the eyes. "Any father would be proud to call you his son."

"Thank . . . thank you." Mike bowed his head. "I just hope that, whatever happens, I find out the truth about my parents soon. I want to move forward with my life."

"That's why I'm here," Julian said. "I was hoping that you'd consider joining Crane Industries—so you and I could get to know each other—so we could work together as father and son."


Clutching the subpoena in her hand, Gwen took a deep breath in and entered the holding cell area.

"I thought you might come." Rebecca looked up from her cot. "I heard that they started subpoenaing witnesses—I'm sure that you got one."

Gwen's heart pounded in her chest. "I did—but that's not the only reason I'm here."

"It's not?" Rebecca sat up.

Tightening her fingers around the subpoena, Gwen turned to the guard. "May I go inside and sit with her?"

"If you're sure that you want to, ma'am," the guard said.

"I'm sure."

The guard opened the cell door.

Gwen's heart lodged in her throat.

"Just call me if you need me," the guard said, ushering her into the cell.

Swallowing hard, Gwen looked at him one last time and then forged ahead.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest as Gwen entered her cell. "Are you really going to testify against me?"

Jumping as the cell door clinked shut behind her, Gwen hugged the subpoena to her chest. "Why aren't you considering plea bargaining? The prosecutors must be willing to do anything they can to get Alistair."

"Gwen, it's not that simple."

"Yes, Mother, it is," Gwen pleaded. "Alistair's in federal prison—he can't hurt anyone anymore."

Rebecca shook her head, rose to her feet, and smoothed out her prison uniform. "Don't be so naive. Alistair will always have connections. He can destroy anyone he wants to—with only a simple phone call."

"I'm not being naive—I know what Alistair can do." Gwen's voice cracked. "My God, he shot his own son and tried to kill his own daughter. Clearly, there's nothing that man won't do."

Rebecca raised one brow. "And yet you expect me to believe that he won't retaliate if I testify against him?"

"There's got to be something someone can do to protect you," Gwen said.

"I don't think there is." Folding her arms in front of her chest, Rebecca's eyes rose to the ceiling. "Even if what you're saying is true and I decide to accept a plea bargain, I still might end up in prison."

"But you'd still probably get a much lighter sentence," Gwen reasoned. "Don't you want to be free to see me get married at some point in the future or maybe even spend time with your grandchildren one day?"

Rebecca looked at her. "Are you planning to give me grandchildren, Gwen?"

"I don't know." Gwen choked back a sob. "But if I do, I'd like you to be there."

"And who is going to be the father of these hypothetical children?" Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me it's going to be that Hank person."

"So what if it is?" Gwen countered. "I love him, Mother."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed on Gwen's ring finger. "I see I'm already too late."

Her eyes welling with tears, Gwen glanced down at her ring. "I was hoping you'd be happy for me."

"Happy for you?" Rebecca scoffed. "Gwen, have you lost your mind? What are people going to say if you marry that penniless punk?"

"He's not a punk, Mother!"

Rebecca threw her hands up in the air. "If you're not going to think about yourself, think about me. I've already lost almost everything because of these charges—do you really want me to lose the last shred of dignity I have left, too?"

"This isn't about you!" Gwen cried. "It's about the fact that I'm finally happy. Don't you want that for me?"

"Of course I do," Rebecca huffed, "but not with someone who's so obviously after your money—who's so obviously manipulating you!"