This is the second to last chapter. I hope you all enjoyed my story and thank you to those who reviewed!

She was in Lucas' office when he walked in on Monday. "Adam?" called Lucas. "Will you come in here for a moment, please?"

He looked down at her, a good foot taller at eighteen. "Hi," he mumbled, and she smiled at him.

"Adam," began Lucas. "How would you like to take the day off today? You must have made quite an impression on Brooke here the other night, because she couldn't stop talking after you left about what a charming young man you are."

Brooke laughed. "What Lucas means to say is that I have to leave for Milan again in a few days. But I'd love to get to know you better, before I go."

Adam nodded quickly, shuffling his feet. Suddenly depressed, he looked up. "You're leaving again?"

"Just for a few weeks. I've decided it's time to move back home. I just have some loose ends to take care of in Milan." She smiled again. "How about a tour of town? I bet Lucas has been working you so hard this summer that you haven't had an official tour yet."

Adam grinned. "That sounds perfect."

***********************

They were on the pier, walking slowly and licking their identical ice cream cones.

Brooke chuckled. "I still can't believe that you got a scoop of mint chocolate chip and a scoop of black raspberry."

Adam grinned. "The best of both worlds. Why choose one when you can get both together?"

Brooke nodded. "Exactly! I've been telling everybody that for years but nobody understands!"

Adam laughed. "Nobody in my family understood either…well, except for my little sister." He sighed sadly. "She always wanted to do everything just like her big brother."

Brooke frowned at his tone. "She sounds adorable. How old is she?"

"She would be nine." He glanced up and fixed Brooke with a despairing gaze. "He was drunk. They told me later. It didn't stop him from driving. He ran a red light. They were coming to my basketball game. He hit them from the side. My parents died on impact but my little sister…she made it to the hospital. I was holding her hand when she died. I could see the blood transfusion dripping into her little veins, I could hear her gasping for air…and then she just stopped." Tears were streaming down his face. "She just stopped. She was seven."

"It's not your fault," whispered Brooke.

Adam nodded, wiping away his tears, embarrassed to be crying in front of her and on the pier, no less. "I know. For months I tortured myself. Why did they have to come see me that night. What if they had been just a few minutes earlier or later. What if, what if. But it didn't bring them back." He laughed harshly. "Once I even asked myself, what if they had never adopted me. Would they still be alive? Eventually I just stopped feeling sorry for myself and learned to go on without them. But it's still hard."

Brooke wiped away a tear that had made its way down her cheek. "I'm sorry, Adam."

"Yeah, me too," he whispered.

"So, you were adopted?" she questioned tentatively. Adam smiled, wondering if the time had finally come for the truth. Wondering how she would take it.

"When I was a baby. My parents were at the hospital when I was born. A few days later they got to take me home and that was that. I was their son."

Brooke sighed. "Can I tell you something? Something private?" He nodded. "Many years ago, back in high school, I found out I was pregnant. And I couldn't have a baby. I had so much to do and the father…I wasn't with the father anymore. My parents would have freaked, they did freak, and all my friends…but I couldn't get rid of it – him – either. I think about him every day," she whispered. "If he's happy now, what he looks like, what he does for fun. If he hates me because I gave him away. Do you think he hates me, Adam?"

Surprised, Adam watched her carefully. "My mom and dad always told me that my birth parents loved me more than anything. But they saw how much my parents wanted a baby and so my birth mother gave me to my mom and my dad. When I was little, I didn't really understand. But I think I do now. So I don't think that your son hates you, Brooke. I know he doesn't."

She smiled at him and his heart burst. "Thank you," she whispered, and she had tears in her eyes.

"Brooke?" He murmured tentatively, knowing that he had to say it now or he would lose his nerve. "Do you know how else I knew my birth parents loved me? When I was born, my mother named me. But my birth mother picked my middle name so that I always knew where I came from."

"Scott," whispered Brooke. "I made her promise that his middle name would be Scott."

Adam smirked, the famous Scott grin. "Adam Scott Johnson. For my two families." She hugged him then, and he held on tighter than he'd ever held on before, because all his dreams were finally coming true. "Have you loved me for all these years?" he murmured softly, and she smiled through her tears.

"Every minute," she whispered. "Every day."

She pulled back too soon. Thoughts raced through his mind – she doesn't like me, she's leaving; she doesn't believe me; or, worse yet, she still doesn't want me. "Adam," she stated. "Let's go tell your father."

She hesitated outside the office door. Adam smiled at her. "Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are." Brooke, I'm just as scared as you are. Hand in hand, they went inside.

************************

Molly was standing in Lucas' office when he and Brooke walked back in. She was wearing a yellow dress, so unlike his old basketball jerseys that she normally wore with jean shorts, but it was her. Her blond curls were carefully pulled back into pigtails and her blue eyes sparkled. His eyes swimming with tears for the third time that day, he rushed up and dropped to his knees, pulling her into a tight hug. "Molly," he whispered. "Oh, Molly." Gently, he stroked her hair. But it wasn't her. The little girl shrugged him off and declared, "I'm not Molly. I'm Anna." He frowned then, stood, dusted off his knees.

"Adam," said a loud voice behind him. "I see you've met my daughter, Anna."

"Anna," repeated Adam. "Anna, not Molly." Closer now, he saw that it wasn't her, that it would never be her. Not anymore.

Behind him, Brooke's heart broke for her son. To have lost so much at such a young age was tragic. Thinking about it though, really, they weren't so different. By eighteen, she too had lost her parents, at least in any sense of the word parent. Lucas and Peyton were together, Brooke brushed aside. He was gone, by then, taken by his adoptive parents to their home across the country. She didn't know where. When she'd asked, they hadn't told her. She didn't ask again. By eighteen, she had lost her parents, her son, the only home she had ever known and the one boy she truly could have loved. They weren't so different after all.

"Luke," Brooke broke in. "Adam has something he wants to tell you."

"Okay, Adam, shoot," allowed Lucas. Adam paused, unsure how to start. After all these years of picturing scenarios of meeting his father, this wasn't one of them. Something wasn't right. Frowning, he silently pleaded with Brooke to help.

"Not here," she added, nodding to Adam. "At the rivercourt."

Adam smiled. She had told him about the significance of the rivercourt over lunch. It was the perfect place.

***********************

"No." said Lucas.

Adam gaped, stunned, and Brooke scowled.

"No," he repeated. "That's just not possible." He was pacing, his hands moving wildly to accompany the words he wasn't uttering. "No. No, no, no, it can't be. Because then," he stumbled. "Because then…" His eyes snapped up and he interrupted himself. "My God. It's you. After all these years. You're – you're my –"

"Son," broke in Adam. "I'm your son."

"My son." Dazed, he repeated the words again. "My son."