Alexander hadn't seen his mother's face for nearly forty years, but a son never forgets. Rachel Faucette Lavien Hamilton looked exactly as she had before she fell ill, her face warm and bright with color as she gasped in joy and folded her arms around her youngest child.

"Alexander!" she breathed, stroking his hair as if he were still a boy. "I always knew you would get out of the Caribbean and make something of yourself. You did more than I ever could have imagined. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom," Alexander said, burying his face in her long dark hair. "You know I wouldn't have left without you. I should have died along with you, I just - I couldn't seem to die."

"Because you were strong," Rachel said reassuringly. "You were never meant for a tropical hellhole. God had other plans for you."

"So y-you've met Philip?" Alexander asked, trying to change the subject.

"Yes, of course. He's a wonderful young man. You got lucky in love, Alexander. Your children are in good hands."

"Yeah," said Alexander, thinking wistfully of Eliza. "If - if you don't mind me asking, where's Dad?"

Rachel's face clouded. "He's here," she said cagily. "If you must talk to him, follow me."

James Hamilton Sr.'s back was turned to his wife and son. He had died five years earlier, and Alexander had not seen him since his abandonment, despite several attempts to contact him. He approached slowly, fearing his emotions would get the better of him.

"Dad," Alexander said softly, laying his hand on his estranged father's shoulder. "It's me. I've come home."

"Alexander," said James, looking down in shame. "Please, leave me be. I dinna deserve a son like you."

"I understand why you did it," said Alexander, sitting down beside him, trying to glimpse his face. "I don't blame you. Really." He paused. "Besides, I'm in no position to call someone else a terrible husband or father."

"And how could ye be a good father if ye never had one yourself?" James demanded, tears in his eyes. "Ye were a far better one than I was, at least."

"Well, I had better children," Alexander said, smiling. "Dad, your greatest sin was your generosity. We don't all have the work ethic to achieve our ambitions. And that's okay. I realize that now."

"I shouldna have been a burden on ye," James said quietly.

"You weren't," Alexander said. Well, maybe a little, he added mentally.

"I always wanted to go to America," James said. "There ye can truly be a new man."

"That's what I thought," Alexander said sadly. "But the past has a funny way of staying with you."

They sat in silence for a while. Finally James said, "Why don't ye go see Washington? He's your real father," he added bitterly.

"I will," Alexander said, and he felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He knew his father didn't mean it literally - those were just nasty rumors. "But I won't forget you, Dad. For better or worse, you raised me and James, and I still love you."

James squeezed his hand. "I love ye too, son," he said. "If ye can make yourself believe it."