Amanda's bloodshot eyes traced a wilting leaf. The weeping fig looked as haggard as she felt. She shoved the pot toward the double doors, into more direct sunlight, then glanced at the glass. A part of her expected Him to appear on the other side, but the garden was empty.

If only people could be saved as easily as plants.

For the hundredth time, she was pulled back to the bar where they'd spent their last moments together. Monk's was packed to the rafters, but they carved out a corner for themselves where she could sip her club soda and make small talk. Meanwhile, Lee made a game of pointing out patrons. It was almost a date.

Then those reporters came and ruined everything.

She surged from the floor and went to the kitchen for a watering can. Moping wouldn't help anything. It wouldn't make her feel better and it certainly wouldn't bring Lee back. She sprinkled the soil in silence, wiping her face with her sleeve.

It felt like she was just getting to know him. Beneath that cool and recondite veneer lurked a very conflicted man, one whose life was as secretive as his work. When the child inevitably asked questions she would have few answers.

Mr. Melrose might know the name of Lee's uncle. That was a start. In hindsight, she should've asked him at the funeral, especially if the Colonel was in attendance. She'd considered confiding in him about the baby but bowed out at the last moment. Seeing the casket was overwhelming on its own.

She lifted the spout and swallowed a sob.

He promised to be safe. He promised.

"Why are you staring at that ficus?" Dotty asked a few feet behind her. There was no telling how long she'd been watching.

Amanda didn't have the energy to act surprised. Even lying proved painful.

"I don't know if I have what it takes," she said.

"To do what?" When she didn't reply, Dotty stepped beside her. "Darling, are you alright? Do you want someone to talk to?"

Lagging on each syllable, Amanda said, "I'm alright, really. Just a bit emotional I guess. Must be that time of the month."

"You and I both know that it hasn't been 'that time of the month' for a while now. I take it that it's not Dean's?"

Muscles failed her and she dropped the water can. Moisture seeped into the carpet and her socks, but she couldn't make herself care.

"What's not Dean's?"

Dotty's voice cracked like a whip. "I may be old but I'm not dense."

Every day, Amanda dissected her life into chunks to help herself cope—Family, Pregnancy, Agency. But now those compartments were wiped clean. Carefully constructed cement came crashing down and adrenaline ran derbies through her blood. At the same time, a sort of dense pressure ebbed from her scalp. Like a breaking fog. She tried to lick her lips but there was no saliva in her mouth.

"No. It's not Dean's."

Dotty nodded to herself. "I always wondered why you sent him to the curb so out of the blue."

"It wasn't out of the blue, e-exactly. Things were dragging..." She stopped to stifle a hiccough. "For a while..."

It was a weak defence, but Dotty didn't judge.

"How did you find out?" Amanda asked.

"Oh, I've been around the block before. I know what you're like when you're expecting. Still, I didn't know for sure. Not until there were more obvious signs."

"Like what?"

"Like the pregnancy test in the trash, back in November. Then there were the prenatal vitamins at the bottom of a shopping bag. Remember, I helped you unload? I didn't comment on it at the time, but..."

Groaning, Amanda sagged to the sofa. Each piece of evidence was like a bullet to the head.

"I've been so stupid."

Dotty sat next to her and squeezed her side. "You are the furthest thing from stupid. I wish you would've trusted me, but I'm sure you had your reasons. I don't like it, but I understand."

"It's not that I didn't trust you, it's just-" She trailed off with a shaky sigh. "I was so embarrassed, and sc-scared."

The last word hung heavy overhead.

"Dear, you don't need to go through this... I'll understand either way."

Shuddering, she pulled a pillow into her lap and kneaded it like a kitten. "It's a bit late for that. Besides, it's not the baby that's making me sad."

"It's the father," Dotty finished for her.

Her head drooped to the pillow and was buried by her arms. Seconds later, she felt a hand rest between each shoulder blade. Her mother rubbed her back in soothing circles.

"Tell me about him."

She propped up her chin and let out a watery laugh. "Oh Mother, he's stunning…"

"At least I can say he contributed some top-notch genetics for my grandchild," Dotty quipped dryly. "How do you feel about this man?"

"He's…" At a loss, Amanda made a few fumbling gestures. How did one describe Lee Stetson? "He's irritating on a good day, infuriating…"

"Irresistible?"

"I guess it doesn't matter," Amanda said, crestfallen.

"Reckless too, apparently."

"Honestly, Mother, I don't know if he was planning on doing anything of that sort until it happened," said Amanda. In the back of her brain she heard him confess that he'd come unprepared, then her greedy assurances that she was safe, heedless of any other risks. They were both at fault. "I don't think either one of us was really thinking clearly."

Dotty snorted. "I'll say."

"What's done is done." She straightened to her feet but was unable to banish the slump in her shoulders. Nobody was more disappointed by her actions than herself.

Dotty seemed to sense her daughter's despair, because soon after Amanda found herself engulfed in a pair of arms. Gripped by grief, she leaned into the embrace and looped her arms around Dotty's shoulders.

"You won't know until he knows," Dotty whispered.

Amanda choked back a bitter sound, somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. Lee Stetson would never know because he was stiff and cold six feet underground. She'd waited too long.