Note: The problem with the upload of new chapters is fixed. :) Please, read 'Chapter 19' first, in case you haven't read it yet and then continue with 'Chapter 20'. Thanks.

Julian's POV

We flew to Los Angeles the following day, after Haley had agreed to take Justin in for a couple days. My father had promised to take care of the business in my absence. Everyone, cast and crew, had been shocked to learn of Chelsea's death. But everyone also had been understanding that we had to interrupt the shooting. The funeral would take place in one week, a simple urn burial directly at the cemetery, without a service. Chelsea didn't have many friends in Tree Hill, and those who lived in L.A. were too far away to travel all the way here. This included her father, who had recovered in the meantime, and her mother. Locating Tom Markham's whereabouts hadn't been difficult. He lived in Imperial Beach, a small town near the Mexican border. He had given up his job as a camera operator, turned his back on L.A. and opened a windsurfer shop in the area. Our way led us directly there and Brooke was very tense when we finally parked our rental car in a parking lot near the shop.

"Do you have the camera and your laptop?" She asked nervously as we walked on.

"Everything in here." I pointed to my backpack. "Relax," I said calmly.

"I can't relax," she said, taking a deep breath. "There's just too much at stake."

"I wonder what kind of a guy he is, giving up a well paid job to open a shop somewhere in no man's land." I looked around frowning. "There's nothing going on here."

"Not for people like you who don't care about sports," she said, smiling wryly. "Imperial Beach is well known as a surfers paradise. The beach is beautiful and the waves are gigantic."

I looked at her in surprise. "Have you been here before?"

"No, I've googled it," she admitted sheepishly. "I just wanted to know where we're going."

"Well, if this doesn't work out, then maybe we should think about going surfing," I suggested, grinning.

"We're not here for fun, Julian." She gave me a reprimanding look. "And besides, you better hope that this is going to work out, because I won't go until we have finished this."

The way she stretched her chin in a stubborn way made it clear to me that she would never give up. I pointed to the shop, which was right in front of us. "We're there."

"Okay." She took a deep breath and reached for my hand. "Then let's go inside."

The little shop was crammed with surfboards, clothes, and other accessories that leaned partially against the walls, but also hung on the ceiling or blocked one's way, I noticed as we entered. Brooke squeezed my hand and silently pointed to a tall, muscular man with dark brown, shoulder-length hair that was tied in a ponytail.

"That's him," She whispered to me.

I nodded. "Would definitely fit the description." I pulled her with me and then stood in front of the giant, who was as tall as me. "Tom Markham?" I asked, looking him straight into his dark brown eyes. He scrutinized me from top to bottom, then let his eyes wander to Brooke. I noticed a slight frown as he couldn't take his eyes off her. Apparently he thought Chelsea would stand in front of him. The resemblance was astonishing.

"Who wants to know?" He finally asked, leaning casually against the counter.

That was my keyword. I grabbed my backpack, pulled out the laptop and put it on the counter. It took only a few seconds for me to start it up and for the movie to run, that I had filmed the day before. "May I introduce...," I said solemnly. "This is Justin Cherney, 4 years old. And this is Brooke, my wife. I'm Julian Baker." I watched his reaction as I let the film run that showed Justin playing in the house with us and staring into the camera with wide eyes.

"Who... who is that?" Tom stammered, unable to take his eyes off the monitor.

"Your son," Brooke replied dryly and gazed at him with an ice-cold look.

"I... I don't have a son," he said confused and looked up. "I have no idea what you want from me."

I pulled out Justin's birth certificate, which we had received in L.A. and put it on the counter. "Here, it's written, under 'Father'," I said, pointing to the line. "If you're Tom Markham, it's your son." I saw him staring at the birth certificate and then his gaze went back to the monitor. And suddenly I realized that he apparently had no idea that he had a son. Brooke stepped next to me.

"You gave Chelsea money for an abortion," she reminded him. "But she decided to have the baby."

He looked at her and I could see how his face became pale under his suntan.

"I... I didn't know..." He ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Why didn't she tell me?"

I exchanged a quick look with Brooke.

"She told me she had sent you a message. But you never reported back to her," she said.

"I never got a message." He shook his head. "I swear that I didn't know that she had the baby."

As helpless as he looked, I even believed him. But that didn't make it easier to ask for a signature.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

"Justin's mother died in a plane crash," Brooke informed him. "There are no other relatives and you are Justin's biological father."

"Do I understand that right that you are here because you want me to take care of a toddler from now on?" He asked, frowning.

"No." Brooke shook her head. "We're here because we want permission from you to adopt Justin."

"Okay, that's a little bit too fast for me." He took a step back and raised his hands up defensively. "I have to digest that first and think about it."

"You have exactly 24 hours left. Then my husband and I will fly back to Tree Hill," Brooke said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"24 hours isn't much time to make a decision like that," he said.

I could almost feel that Brooke was about to lose her composure. I grabbed her arm. "Give him some time to think," I said softly. But she broke free and straightened up in front of Markham to her full height.

"I don't even know why you have to think about it," she said in a provocative tone. "You gave her money for an abortion. You didn't even want this child!" Her voice became shrill. "And now you want to tell me that you suddenly have discovered your fatherly feelings?" She stomped angrily with her foot. "You are such a hypocrite! What Justin needs are people who genuinely love him and not a guy who only takes him in out of obligation!"

"Brooke!" I grabbed her arm again but couldn't stop her.

She pulled a document and pen out of the bag and slammed it in front of Markham on the counter. "You simply have to sign that you relinquish your rights you have on Justin. We will take care of everything else, and you will never see us again."

I stared back and forth between Markham and Brooke and then realized that he wouldn't give in so easily.

"I'll have that checked by my lawyer," he said coldly, then pointed to the laptop. "Can I have a copy of it?"

I nodded. "I'll give you one."

Brooke had her arms crossed in front of her chest and paced angrily back and forth. "You won't get away with this!" She threatened. "You aren't capable of raising a child at all." She spread her arms. "Look around! This is no surrounding for a small child!"

"I only work here, I don't live here," he said coolly. "I own a beach house in the neighborhood. There's nothing more exciting for a kid than going to the beach and swimming every day."

I glanced quickly at Brooke and saw tears in her eyes. She also seemed to know when she had lost. And Tom Markham stuck stubbornly to what he believed was his 'possession'. I put my arm around Brooke's waist. "Let's go," I said softly to her. But she didn't want to relent.

"I hate you!" She yelled at him. "I wish you had died in a plane crash instead of Chelsea, who was a wonderful mother!"

When her voice broke and she began to sob helplessly, I took her in my arms and pulled her to my chest. "We'll be back," I said to Markham and gave him my business card. "Call me!" I said before taking Brooke's hand and leaving with her.

"He can't do that," she sobbed desperately as we sat in the car again. "He can't take Justin away from us!"

I wasn't a lawyer, so I knew too little about the rights of a biological father. But right now we couldn't do more. "We're going back to the hotel," I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "And then we'll consult a lawyer who is well informed about adoption law." I started the engine and made my way to the hotel.