"He sent you out here to talk to me, didn't he?" Shayne looked up to see the face of his mother approaching. She cradled a cup of warm herbal tea in her hands and held it out towards him.

"I always want to talk to you," she said softly as she settled down next to him on the bench in front of the Cross Creek house they now called home. "But yes, your father did suggest I come out here. He's just worried about you sweetheart. We both are. We know how hard this has been on you."

"It would be easier if you would just listen to me - if anybody would just listen to me."

"Shayne, honey …" She placed her arm on his shoulder as she prepared to repeat the speech she'd given him so many times before. "I know it's easier to believe that …"

"Stop it. You can save the psychobabble. I know you think I'm crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy. I think you're hurting. I think you miss her and I think you wish things had turned out differently. God knows I do too. I miss Jeffrey every day and if I could go back and change the way things ended, I would, but …"

"It's different for you," he said quietly. "You, and everybody else in this town. When you found out what she did … no matter why she did it, you couldn't see past that. You couldn't even let her try to explain. You just blamed her and condemned her and …that's why …. That's why she …"

"I know." She peered into the eyes of her son. "And I know that if you were honest, you blame us and that's okay. You can say that, son. You should say that."

"It's not just you. I blame myself too." He stood up and kicked at the pebbles in the driveway. "God, Mom, If I'd just told her how I felt, if I'd just made it clear that I still loved her, that nothing she did would ever change that, maybe she wouldn't have left, maybe she wouldn't have taken off and then …"

Reva finished for him. "And then maybe she wouldn't be gone."

"Mom." He turned away from her again to stare up at the moon and stars.

"Honey, you know she is. I know what it's like to want to believe something else. After they told us about the plane, it took me a long time to accept it too, but eventually I had to because even though Jeffrey and Dinah are gone, we aren't. We didn't die and I just can't believe that they would want us to stop living."

"You believe what you want to believe, Mom, but I know what I heard."

Reva shook her head as she felt Josh's presence behind her. They had both been trying to get through to him for nearly a week now, ever since the phone call had supposedly occurred.

"He still?" Josh's voice was barely more than a whisper as he leaned in towards her.

"My hearing is still perfect, Dad, even if you do think I've developed a hole in my head."

"Son."

The sound of the small rocks crunching under his father's feet sounded ominous as he waited for the words he had virtually memorized.

"We all grieve in different ways and this is just one of the ways that you're trying to cope with Dinah being gone."

So many emotions had torn at his heart over the past six months since she'd been gone. He'd been angry with her when she'd told him the truth, but when she'd disappeared, his fear for her safety had far outweighed any resentment or bitterness he had. All he wanted was to see her again, told her, to know she was safe. Night after night he'd waited for word, hoping against hope that the phone would ring and he'd hear her voice. And then it did ring, but it wasn't her voice on the other side.

They all tried to comfort him, just as they'd comforted his mother. Dinah and Jeffrey had gone down on the plane together. They had found the wreckage. There were no survivors, but there had also been no bodies recovered. They had tried to talk to him with logic, telling him that bodies floating in the waters of South America would have likely lasted only moments with the marine life, but he couldn't hear it. More than that, he couldn't feel it. He and Dinah had had a connection and if she were gone - truly gone, he believed he would have felt her leave. The light and the joy and the spark she had brought to the world would have been dimmed. Even the stars in the night sky would have been less bright.

Looking up at them tonight, he felt even more convinced than ever, they still shone just as brightly and he knew in his soul that she was still out there, waiting for him.

"She's not gone, Dad," he said, his voice filled with a new sense of conviction. "I know how it sounds. I know what you think, but I also know what I heard."

"Shayne." It was Reva that spoke now. "You were there, honey, at the funeral. You heard everyone speak. We all hurt for Dinah and Jeffrey. We all …"

"Not like I did! Not like I do!" His voice shook with anger now as his eyes flashed at her. "None of you loved her like that! It was your judgment that put her on that plane and I'll …"

"It's okay to be angry with us, son," Josh said calmly. "That's all part of this and I think that might be part of the reason you're struggling now. You've been trying so hard to feel what you think you're supposed to feel that you've been unwilling to let yourself really feel what's honest and true."

"I know what's honest and true," Shayne snapped. "I know that I heard her voice. I know that she's alive and I know that I have to find her."

"Shayne. That phone call that you say you got … No one …" Josh stopped as he saw the visceral anger moving over his son's face.

"You know dad, I can accept this coming from Mom because she really doesn't get it. But you … I would expect you to get it. I've heard the stories. I know that you, of all people, should understand. How many times did people tell you Mom was gone? How many times did people try and convince you that you were crazy, that you were seeing things, that she couldn't possibly have survived that crash?"

"That was different," Josh said sadly. "Your Mom wasn't really gone. Dinah is."

"No she's not. I heard her voice. She was as alive as you or me or Mom or anyone else in this town. I heard her, Dad. She said my name and she was afraid. I heard the fear in her voice. I know she's out there and I know she needs me and I know that I have to find her and I will." He felt a new sense of purpose rise up within him. "I don't care what it takes. I don't care what you or anyone else thinks. I will not let her down again. I will find her and I will bring her home and I will spend the rest of my life proving to her that there is nothing she could ever do to change how I feel about her."


He kicked at one of the empty beer cans that littered the floor of the hotel room. Room service would have taken care of all of this, but he'd warned the desk clerk that no one should come into the room. He didn't want it touched, didn't want anything disturbed, didn't want anything different from the way she'd left it. His eyes moved over to the cream, silk robe that still lay across the chair. His fingertips ran across the cool fabric and he closed his eyes as he remembered the way it felt as the straps had slipped down off her shoulders. Missing her had become physical pain at this point and he had no idea how to stop it.

Knowing she was out there, knowing she wasn't actually gone should have been a relief and it was, in some ways. In others, it was a sick joke. He reached into the small mini fridge and pulled out another beer. Popping the top, he stepped out onto the balcony.

He knew she was alive. He knew was still in this world. He knew she was likely somewhere staring up into this same night sky, but he had no idea if she was alright. The sound of her voice had been off. It might have been fear. It might have been pain. It might have simply been desperation, but it wasn't the Dinah he'd known. Something wasn't right and yet he felt powerless to fix it. With no idea where she was and no idea where to start, finding her felt like an impossibility.

"God, Dinah," he breathed, "Where the hell are you? I miss you … so much."

He turned and stepped back into the room, his eyes falling on the mail that had been slipped underneath the door. It was almost always junk, but something in the stack caught his eye this time. He bent down and picked up the papers, immediately dropping everything except the thin piece of cardboard. His eyes widened as he stared down at the landscape. The water scene was so familiar that, for a moment, he felt transported, his body almost morphing into the photo so that he could smell the air and feel the soft breeze.

The handwriting on the other side wasn't one he recognized, but it didn't matter. This was a sign -the sign he'd asked her for. She was giving him a clue, telling him how to find her, and had to listen. He'd let his words fail him once. His actions would not fail him this time.


"Damnit!"

She jumped at the sound of the smashing glass.

"Do you have any idea the trouble you've caused? Why can't you just let things go? Why do you have to continually push me to do these things that I don't want to do?" He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he tightened the knot around her wrist. His eyes softened a bit as he looked down at the fear that filled her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you, Dinah. That's the last thing in the world I want to do. I just … I need you to listen to me. I need you to follow some very simple instructions. Shayne Lewis is out of the picture. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

"I love him," she hissed. "I need him."

"You have everything you need," he said sternly. "I've made sure of that. You have a comfortable place. You have food and water. You have a great doctor and I'm going to be here for you … for both of you."

"You're not her father," she whispered, as she placed her hands protectively over her taut belly. "Shayne is her father. He deserves to be here. He deserves to be a father to his daughter."

"Shayne Lewis deserves nothing. He had his chance to be a father. He had his chance to have a family and he blew it. He let my daughter and my grandchild die and now, he has to pay. I'm the one that deserves something here. I'm the one that's lost something. I was supposed to have a daughter. I was supposed to have a family and now, thanks to you, I will." He smiled down at her as he reached out and lovingly stroked her belly. "Little Lauren will be here before you know it and then we'll go somewhere where no one will ever find us."

Dinah swallowed hard as she watched Edmund stand up and straighten his suit.

"I'm heading out for a bit," he said. "Is there anything you need me to pick up for you?"

"Edmund," she tried again, "Please, just let me call him. Let me tell him we're here. Just let him come and you can still be a part of this baby's life. You can …"

"You're getting all stressed out again. You heard the doctor last time. Your blood pressure was a little high and you need to manage your stress. Calm down or we'll have to take you back in."

She relented, leaning back against the pillows and feeling the rope pull as she stressed her restraints. "Can you at least untie me? Just so I can get more comfortable?"

He eyed her suspiciously. "Can I trust you? Not to do anything else stupid. No more prying open windows and trying to borrow cell phones?"

"I promise," she whispered.

"It wouldn't matter even if you tried." He smiled as he gently undid the knots around her wrist. "I've nailed them shut from the outside. "I know you think you'll never be happy again, but you will. Once this baby is born and you hold her in your arms and we find somewhere beautiful and warm and far away from where anyone knows who we are or the things we've done in our past, you and I … we can be happy … with our little one here."

She tried to force a slight smile, hoping her compliance might earn her a little more freedom. She managed to keep it fixed until she heard the door close behind him. Tears slid down her cheeks as she ran her hand across her belly. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm trying. I'm trying so hard." Thinking back, she remembered the frantic words she'd whispered to the passing hunter. There was no way to know if he'd understood or followed her instructions. His English had been broken and she'd been hurried and frightened as she spoke. All she'd managed was to pass across the scribbled address and ask him to find the postcard of Lake Starnberg. There was no way to know if it had actually made it to Shayne. All she could do now was hope.