"I know!" Sophie croaked a yell, "I'm the daughter of a whore, a prostitute! She tried to take Da from you! She tried to marry him! You thought I was his!" Anguished by the half-truths Sophie had been told, Laura couldn't stop the impulse of covering her face with her hands, wishing with all she was that she could put her hands on the Castoro men.

"See! You can't even look at me!" The shock of that statement had Laua dropping her hands, and rushing to Sophie, pulling her sobbing daughter back into her arms.

"That… is… not… true!" Laura emphasized each word, before pulling back and taking Sophie's face in her hands. "You are my beautiful, kind, intelligent and loving, Sweet Girl. You have no idea how terrified I was I'd never see you again when Julian had you." She brushed back hair off of Sophie's damp face. "I knew if we didn't get you back, a part of me would die… the part of my heart you hold, and I would never get it back. We suffered, all of us, terrified we wouldn't see you again. I don't care who your biological parents are. I am thankful every day of my life that you are ours. Every day! You're my Sweet Girl," Laura continued, her own tears spilling over, "You're Da's a thaisce, Livvie's sister and best friend and the sister Holt adores. If anything happened to you, our family would never be the same again. All of us – All of us! – love you so, so much that—"

"Mommy," Sophie mewed and Laura found herself with an armful of her daughter again.

They stood in each other's embrace for a long while, Laura rocking Sophie, stroking her hair and whispering soft, reassuring words until Sophie's sobs dwindled to hiccup-sniffles. Only then did she sense her mother's distress. She pulled back and stared at Laura in awe.

"You're crying," she said in disbelief. She could count the number of times she'd seen her mother cry on exactly one finger and then she'd happened into a private moment between her parents.

"Yes," Laura admitted, sweeping away her tears with her fingertips. "It hurts to see you in so much pain and knowing I can't get to the Castoro men and rip their throats out with my bare hands for what they've done to you." Sophie pulled away and walked towards the railing, shoulder's slumping.

"You always say 'The truth shall set you free,'" she lamented, sitting down and swinging her legs over the side, then resting her head on arms folded against the railing. "It doesn't feel freeing." Laura crossed the deck and sliding down next to her daughter, mimicking her position.

"The truth never does when it's been twisted and perverted to suit what someone wants you to believe."

"That makes it a lie. You're saying Julian lied to me?" Laura hated knowing she'd be the cause of chasing away the hopeful note in her voice.

"He certainly didn't tell you the whole truth and what he did, he made it out to be entirely something else. "I think you deserve to know what really happened… and how… so no one can hold the past over you and use it to hurt you. Do you think you're up for that?" Sophie drew in a long breath and released it shakily.

"I'm afraid," she admitted.

"You don't need to be," Laura reassured. "The past shapes the people we are and will become, but it holds no power over us unless we allow it to. Believe me…" she paused for effect "…I would know."

"You?" Sophie asked incredulously.

"Me," Laura nodded. "And your father. Our mutuals pasts and the lessons we'd learned from those pasts prevented your Da and I from admitting the place we held in each other's lives. We were partners, certainly. Best friends… And I'd been in love with him since I was twenty-six-years old. But his past, the way he meandered around the globe, avoiding any ties other than friendships, and me having learned from my past that men don't stick around, made everything far more complicated than it ever had to be." She tilted her head and connected her eyes with Sophies. "We were so busy playing games, trying to make each other jealous, that we nearly cost ourselves this amazing life the five of us have and a future full of promise." She reached out and palmed Sophie's cheek, much like she would Remington's when he was distressed. "You are going to be a beautiful bride and as wonderful a mother as Clarissa was." Sophie blinked wet lashes and her lower lip quivered.

"She was a good Mom?" Laura reached around and hugged Sophie to her side, briefly.

"The best," Laura replied, sincerely.

"Will you tell me about her?" They'd openly discussed Clarissa with Sophie over the years and Clarissa's picture still set on a bedside table in the teen's room. It wasn't generalities Sophie was talking about.

"Well, bear in mind, your Da and I knew her professionally." She frowned. "Well, your father better than I given his propensity to keep in touch with former clients," she noted drily, "But I'll tell you what know."

"All of it?" Sophie prodded the promise.

"As much as I know, but I have to warn you that your mother didn't have an easy life. Are you sure you're ready for that?" Sophie didn't jump in to answer but took her time, then nervously replied.

"I think so."

"Soph, you do know that you can always ask me anything, and I'll tell you the truth, as long as I know it, and it's not a matter of your father and my privacy, don't you?" Sophie shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head.

"I suppose," she replied, using the simple phrase Laura oft utilized. "But it's not that easy, either. I mean how do I say 'Mom, can we talk about my other Mom?'… Especially now when I know she tried to steal Da from you?"

"Well, there's where we'll begin. First, however, I'd like your word that you'll keep certain facts between us until your father and I can decide when and if we want to give up a piece of our privacy or even It will do more harm knowing than not knowing." Sophie sighed.

"That bad huh?"

"Not really. It just is not a time period your father and I are very proud of, even though events during that time brought us more happiness than we ever imagined we were deserving of…" She looked back over her shoulder towards the cabin. "Holt… Livvie…" She palmed Sophie's cheek, "…You. Will you give me your word?"

"I promise." Laura only nodded her acknowledgement of the pledge.

"Do you recall how we began an association with Clarissa." Sophie nodded.

"She was a client."

"Technically, Bernard was the client and your mother's tax accountant—"

"Bernard? Bernie?!" Bernard, Mildred's beloved nephew, had accepted a partnership with prestigious accounting firm in LA some four years prior, he and his family becoming fast editions to the Steele's dinners and barbeques. Anything for Mildred, but they all liked 'the little nebbish' as Remington had taken to referring to fondly.

"The very one. He was in his senior year of college, doing taxes for Clarissa and her friends, as well as advising them… and Mildred… on investments to pay off student loans and pay his expenses." Sophie straightened, her curiosity piqued.

"Was my mom—Was Clarissa going to college too?"

"Soph, it's okay to call Clarisssa Mom, mommy. She was your mother and you loved her a great deal."

"You look so sad when I call her that. You don't think I see it, but I do." Sophie was nearly as adept at reading people as Remington, honed, perhaps, by traumatic childhood events? She wasn't sure, but thought it was a possibility.

"Not because you call her mom," Laura corrected, "But because Castoro stole her right to watch you grow up, as your Da and I have had the honor of doing." Reaching over she tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind Sophie's ear. "She would be so proud of you."

"I'd like to think so," the girl replied, almost shyly, then turned troubled. "Was she a prostitute, like Julian said?"

"Yes, but not in the traditional sense. Clarissa didn't work the boulevard or conduct business in seedy hotels. She had a very select, wealthy, executive clientele, appointments carefully scheduled and a luxury apartment where she entertained." Beside her, Sophie tried to muffle her sobs, as what she feared became reality. "Soph, Clarissa didn't have an easy life growing up. Her parents were strict fundamentalists who spoke often of hell and believed, very much, in spare the rod, spoil the child. She was barely older than you when they threw her out. She was alone, I'm sure frightened, with no one to turn to and nowhere to go. Your father meant many girls like her in Brixton. She did nothing more and nothing less than do what she felt she had to in order to survive. She shouldn't be judged for that but remembered for how much she loved you and did everything she could to keep you safe and happy. Do you understand?" In a rare thinning of the lips Sophie bit out.

"She was a prostitute who tried to steal Da from you. Maybe she did the first to survive, but the second was… was completely self-serving, not caring she'd hurt you as long as she got what she wanted!" Laura was shaking her head before her daughter even finished.

"No, she was human…" she mulled, her mind flitting towards the past….

"It makes you human, Laura. Appealingly… human."

"The first time I ever gambled was in Las Vegas. Your father and I were on a case retrieving stolen jewels – a theft an was intent upon pinning on your father. We needed fifty-thousand dollars in less than a few hours or not only would your father find himself under arrest but we'd lose the Agency in the process. I made your Da and Aunt Mildred empty their pockets, then putting my math degree to work, I set out to beat the Vegas odds with a starting stake of one-hundred-eighty-six-dollars and twenty-three cents, every last penny we had between us. A few hours later, I'd turned that stake into sixty-thousand dollars."

"Wow," drew out the impressed girl.

"No, not wow," Laura corrected. "Foolish, caught up in the rush of winning. Each time I threw those dice, I risked everything I had on the table, mindless of the consequences. If your father hadn't seen what was happening and prevented me from throwing again… well, we'll never know since he stopped me and literally threw me over his shoulder and hauled me out of there while Mildred cashed in my winnings. If I'd won," she shrugged her shoulders, "Doesn't matter. The only thing that did and does is that some part of me was willing to put everything and everyone who meant the most to me at risk for just one more throw of the dice. I told your father that night how ashamed I was of my actions and he reminded me I was human: We all have our faults and flaws and have made decisions we're not proud of. One of those times for me was that night in Vegas. Your mother not only owned her mistakes when they came to Remington, she had done what she had for reasons I couldn't argue." This was met with another uncharacteristic affect from Sophie: A snarky snort.

"You would never have done that to someone else, so trying to justify what she did!" Laura rubbed her brow, briefly, then flipped her hand and let it fall to her lap.

"When we first met Clarissa during the Delorian case. Bernard had introduced her to us as his Latin Tutor who he did taxes for on the side. That wasn't her real occupation, of course, and by the letter of the law she was committing a crime working in the profession that she did, but in her eyes that didn't mean she should shirk on her fair share of taxes, plus by paying the Social Security taxes, Medicare taxes and investing wisely, she was setting up a secure future for herself."

"That was smart," Sophie admitted, begrudgingly.

"It was," Laura agreed. "I won't lie and tell you she didn't 'hit on' your father during that case, she did. However, your father made it clear his interests were elsewhere and she bowed out, gracefully. If I spent my time being angry at every woman who found your father attractive, I'd never sleep, let alone get anything done," she laughed, relieved to hear a soft, brief laugh from Sophie , too, before she deflated again.

"That doesn't make sense. If she bowed out, why were she and Da getting married?" Here it was, that moment. Chills ran up her spine at just the wisp of a memory of that time. She dreaded what was to come.

"Well," she sighed the word, "This is one of the parts that need to remain just between us." Sophie turned her head, her attention riveted on Laura. "We were on a case in the Fall of '85. In London, actually. Your father lost his credentials, including his passport and as urgent matters were drawing us home, I arranged for a new passport through some…" she scratched her nose, "Not so legal means. Eight months later, the insurance adjuster we'd bested in Las Vegas, had done so again in LA and had twice tried to have your father arrested, reported your father to Immigration and Naturalization Service as being in the country illegally." See, it was easy, she told herself, just gloss over the ugliest of details.

"He did?!"

"Yes, he did, and thanks to my mistake listing your father's birthplace as Ireland. Well, you know your father: The easiest way is always the best way."

"He was born in Ireland," this from Sophie.

"No, he was born in England, on your Granddad's estate and he decided when he arrived in LA in '82, the Visa process was nothing more than a tedious, meaningless complication."

"He didn't!"

"Oh, but he did. So the INS had him hook, line and sinker," she snapped her fingers, then sobered again. "By the time I'd put together all his odd behavior that day, I walked into the Little Chapel of Perpetual Hope where he was standing at the altar preparing to exchange vows with your mother."

"You must have been so hurt!" Laura smiled weakly.

"Furious is more like it. I drug him out of there, berated him forwhat must have seemed like hours to him, wrapped up the case, then I chewed hm out some more, for good measure. Nevertheless, by five-thirty, my hair and clothes caked in mud, your father perfectly clean and in the tux he'd been wearing with Clarissa, we stepped onto a tuna trawler, traveled the requisite number of miles out to sea, where we were married by the owner of the boat."

"I can't believe you did that after what he did," Sophie said with a trace of disapproval in her voice.

"Your father has always been his own worst enemy when he feels what he cares about most is at stake: His freedom, the life he's made for himself, me…." She looked towards the cabin again, "And now this amazing family we're surrounded by. He'd tried to pull a fast one on me on any number of occasions in the past, thinking I'd never find out, and justifying if I did it was my own fault for him sneaking around because I wouldn't have followed along with his plan anyway." This earned another laugh from Sophie.

"He still tries every once in a while." Laura's laughter joined in.

"And will again, at the very least when it comes time to start training for the biathlon. He's going to stash a comfortable chair somewhere and work on his tan, no doubt a fan in one hand and a drink in the other while Holt and Livvie run or bike, waving to them as they pass, all the while believing Livvie and Holt are too loyal to him to say anything." Sophie shrugged a shoulder.

"Holt won't say anything," she said with absolute faith. Holt loved and was loyal to his parents equally. Besides, it was fun watching Da try to get away with something, get caught by Laura, then try to hem and haw his way out of it, they all agreed.

"But Laura…"

"Now, Laura…"

"But…"

"Lau—"

On his good days, he'd slunk down on the nearest seat, prop his head in his hand and take the ear lashing he'd had coming… if for nothing more than yet again failing to put one past her, which, at times, chafed.

On his foolish days, he'd find his foot protruding from his mouth…

"Aren't you getting a bit carried away over something so trivial.

The kids enjoyed listening in as their Da was nailed, comically in their eyes, to the wall. On the days he forgot who he was dealing with?

Well, the minute he inserted that foot, they scattered to the winds knowing their mother was going to blow like Mount Vesuvius, unwillingly to chance Laura from finding them eavesdropping and find themselves facing one of her creative punishments.

"Livvie will sell him out in a second," Sophie predicted. "He usually has her in his back pocket, but no way she sweats while he's sunbathing, especially when there's a bet at stake." She studied her mother's face. "You already know what you're going to do to him, don't you?" Laura did her best to play inncocent.

"Me?!" She couldn't keep up the act and shared, "I'm going to put Livvie in charge of your Dad and Holt's training. She's convinced all she has to do is get one of them to beat you to win. She'll be harder on him that I have ever been and we'll beat all of them." Sophie's smile grew wide.

"Really?"

"You betcha!" She then returned the original topic of conversation. "When Da found out the INS was going to deport him, he panicked. In his convoluted thinking, he thought he'd marry Clarissa, provid3e her a tidy sum each month to be his paper wife, while he and I continued our romance. No harm, no foul, right? It was a strictly business agreement, so I shouldn't take offense. His decisions that day nearly any chance of having this life we treasure. Your mother, on the other hand? I was beyond jealous seeing her standing at that altar with your father. He was mine and there was no way I was going to let her get her mitts on him. At the same time, I could commiserate with her to a degree. Your father had undoubtedly convinced her I'd never find out, but beyond that the amount they'd agreed to would allow her to consider other options than her current profession. It was a chance at a different life."

"It still wasn't right," Sophie retorted, defending Laura.

"Maybe it wasn't right, but the need for security is primal." Laura rubbed her arms then made a huge admission, for her. "It took a long time for me to realize that had it not been for finding your father at the altar with Clarissa, we may well have stood frozen in time, mired down by our uncertainties and fears—"

"You and Da afraid?" The thought was almost unfathomable to the teen. They were rock solid at home, and if the stories from Agency staff were to be believed, even in a hail of bullets the pair stayed icy calm.

"As I said, the past can teach powerful and often painful lessons. We'd danced around each other for four years, a couple yet not really a couple, partners but more than partners, best friends but with feelings that were more than friendly." Livvie would have shriveled her nose at the last, but Sophie's expression never changed from quiet curiosity. "We placed our personal relationship at risk, more times than I care to recall over misunderstandings, jealousy and our failure to trust one another when the chips were down."

"You and Da?" Sophie asked, stunned once more. That was even more unbelievable than the last. When there was a crisis that effected the Steele family, her parents were positively feral in their absolute faith and trust in one another.

"Me and Da," Laura nodded. "We argued, bickered, fussed and baited each other almost constantly, but I can count on a single hand the number of truly big blow ups we'd had. The last had occurred only a few weeks before I walked into that chapel. In the middle of the case, we lost track of the fact we were playing roles, and our very personal fears and anger were given voice. When we finally let go of enough anger and hurt we'd both endured, we'd agreed what we wanted was for our relationship to move forward. I think we both believed things were resolved and we'd come out stronger than before but in the aftermath of Keyes bringing the INS into his life, your Da and I realized we'd reached a point of all or nothing. Your mother nearly marrying your father and that fake wedding on the fishing trawler paved the way for a very real wedding not much later."

"The one in Greece?"

"The one and the same. Can you even imagine Ioseph agreeing to a farce of a wedding? Your father and I would still be doing penance sixteen years later had we dared to even ask."

They shared a smile. Ioseph… Father Ioseph… was infamous for hanging outlandish penance on the three brothers, his cousins, who'd made his youth miserable in his estimation. Remington had, of course, been one of those boys and nothing irked Laura more that knowing his childhood shenanigans were responsible for the penance she'd pay for largely trivial reasons.

When the moment passed, Laura reached her arm around Sophie and hugged the girl to her, the best she could in their current positions. "Yes, Clarissa worked as an escort. Yes, she almost married your Da. But were I still angry about those choices, which I'm not, I'd have no choice but to let it all go, because there is one thing she did for us that completely irradicated any bad decisions in the past."

"What did she do?"

"She kept you safe until she could get you to us. I will always be grateful to her for that."

"Even though I'm a Castoro and not a real Steele?" Sophie asked with uncertainty making her voice waiver.

"A real Steele?" Laura laughed merrily. "I'm a Holt and your father is a Fitzgerald. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say you, Olivia and Holt are the first generation of 'real' Steele's. We could even go so far to say you take after the true tradition of who the Steele's are: You began life as a Jensen – not a Castoro – and are now a Steele."

Silence descended as Sophie digested what Laura said, while working up the courage to ask the question her heart and head needed an answer to.

"If my mother and Da weren't… dating… why did he have to have a DNA test to see if I was his?" This drew another sigh.

"Clarissa was smart enough to tell the police you were your Da's biological father, allowing him to take immediate custody at her request. You were the only witness to your mom's murder and when we realized Castoro had likely instigated her death, there was absolutely no way we would allow him anywhere near you. So," she blew out a long breathe, "We lied to the Court and told them you were Da's. It bought us the time we needed to protect you."

"Why… Why does my fa-… Why does Gabriel Castoro hate me so much?" Laura's fury returned at the sight of the tears dripping offing her daughter's lashes, wetting a tortured face.

"Gabriel Castoro is an awful man," she told her, ferociously. "The only things he cares about are power, control and wealth. It wasn't you…" she said, palming Sophie's cheek, then repeating "It wasn't you. It was all about control. He may have been able to make Clarissa feel she was trapped by him, but when it came to you, he had no control over your mother at all. You were the love of her life and she would defy him in a heartbeat when it came to you, even after death."

"After death?"

"She recorded conversations, fights, between your father and her. They were very vivid proof for the Court that Gabriel Castoro was not only a violent criminal, but he had no business having any contact with you whatsoever. Because of those tapes, the Court terminated his parental rights on the spot. Even in death, she defied him to keep you safe." She leaned her head against her daughter's. "You shouldn't be ashamed Clarissa was your mother, Sweet Girl. You should be proud." Sophie nodded her head rapidly.

They sat in silence for long minutes, as Sophie allowed her relief, fears and grief to collide, shedding restorative tears… at least Laura hoped they were restorative. When Sophie's silent sobs settled into soft sniffles, that bit of optimism was turned up ended.

"Mom?"

"Hmmm?"

"What if I never feel like I did, again, before Jul-… before Julian?"

"In what way?" Sophie drew in a deep, staggered breathe, then blurted out the words.

"Happy… Like I belong."

With those words, Laura made an executive decision: It was time to call the troops together.

"You will, baby," she vowed, pressing a kiss against the side of her daughter's head. "You will. I promise."