Twenty-five-year-old social worker, Maggie Carpenter took her mug of coffee out onto her deck as the sun started to rise over the west bank of the Charles River. Her, technically older by about five minutes, brother Ian had purchased the home for her almost on a whim because it reminded him of the cottage his late mother had always rented for the summer to escape the stifling humidity of Manhattan and the oppressive nature of her husband, Guy Armitage. Technically Eleanor Armitage had also been Maggie's mother, at least biologically, although she had only learned that truth after her father's death, five months earlier. She had been left with so many questions which had never been answered. She was slowly starting to accept that they likely never would. Her relationship with Ian helped some and together they were trying to believe that their parents had done the best they could. Perhaps that was all anyone could do.

In four hours, she was supposed to supervise visitation between former county prosecutor, currently alleged rapist, Scott Baldwin and his five-year-old daughter. The accused's father, who was also his attorney, had somehow managed to avoid the child, his granddaughter, being taken into state custody by having his son sign over guardianship to his younger sister. Apparently, she and her husband, who were both physician pillars of the community, still were on Chapparal County's approved foster list because they had adopted a child in 1995. It was all far too convoluted for Maggie to understand.

XXXXXXXX

At Pine Valley Hospital, Liza Colby Chandler rolled onto her right side away from the early morning light that was starting to spill through the window. The daylight held no hope. Her son was gone.

XXXXXXXX

In her West Side Manhattan apartment, Simone Torres groaned when the phone started to ring again. She had tried letting it go to voicemail but apparently whoever was calling her was persistent. With her eyes only half open she fumbled around for the phone by her bed eventually managed to croak out a half-conscious greeting.

"So much for call me anytime, Carly, I want to be there for you," her best friend Carly Ashton retorted.

Simone rubbed her eyes and forced herself to sit up. "Good grief, Carly, it's like 7:30 AM. You know I'm never conscious by choice before eight AM!" she fired back. But then she added as a guilty afterthought. "What's wrong, is everything ok with the baby?"

"I think so, I have an appointment with Dr. Meadows on Monday. But first, I think I'm expected to go to church with the entire Quartermaine Famdamily, and I have no idea what to wear," Carly wailed.

Simone exhaled and then shook her head. She had almost forgotten how liberal Carly was with her interpretation of an emergency. "So, let me get this straight, you're calling me before eight for fashion advice?" she asked.

Her words were met with silence and for a moment Simone wondered if Carly had hung up, but then she heard muffled sobs.

"Carly, don't cry, seriously God isn't supposed to care what you wear and if the Quartermaines do then obviously they aren't in the right frame of mind for worship," Simone said.

Carly sniffled. "Really," she asked.

Simone hesitated to respond. She was pretty sure that had been something her mother had said after Mary Elizabeth Johnson had mocked Simone's Easter Dress in third grade. At the time the words hadn't exactly made her feel better and she hadn't been to church in years. The reality was that there were plenty of people who spent more time focusing on anything but the message during the service and there were probably at least a few in whatever church the Quartermaines attended so perhaps it wasn't fair to let Carly potentially walk into the Lion's Den unarmed.

"My mother believed that was true. However, in case the Quartermaines worship with some heartless heathens pretending to believe, I'll help you find something to wear. You want trendy, yet tasteful. How much time do we have and what kind of video conferencing options does your husband have set up at home?" Simone asked.

XXXXXXXX

Jason Morgan killed the throttle and parked his motorcycle at the top of the Mt. Kisco overlook. It was amazing how much an early morning bike ride could do to clear his head. His godparents had probably considered the bike an impulse purchase nineteen months earlier, but Jason knew it was one of things which had helped him preserve any sanity he had over the same period.

A lot had changed in his life in two years. Or at least so he was told. Once, before the accident which killed his parents, he had been a Boston PD Detective. He had emerged from the coma with no recollection of that life which basically ended any chance of returning to it. His surviving family, his godparents, the doctors Alan and Monica Quartermaine had arranged for his transfer to a traumatic brain injury rehabilitation unit in their hospital and then brought him into their home. Purportedly he had spent most of his childhood summers there hanging out with his cousin, AJ. He had no recollection of that, the time he had spent attending Port Charles University, or the amazing love his cousin AJ kept insisting he and Keesha Ward shared. His brief time in the Quartermaine Mansion had been tense, stifling, and frustrating. He had stormed out for the final time at the end of March, gotten a room over Jake's Bar, and Sonny Corinthos had given him a job as a favor to the woman he loved like a sister, Lois Cerullo. Less than eighteen months after that fateful day he had ascended to head the Corinthos Organization. The last part had hardly been planned, but it had become reality.

XXXXXXXX

As she descended the back stairs into the Quartermaine kitchen, Brenda Barrett covered several yawns. Mornings had never really been her thing, plus she had been up far too late the night before, studying statistics no less. Surprisingly the kitchen was empty. That was atypical, usually even on Sundays, Edward was downstairs eating breakfast and grumbling about the fact that his cardiologist daughter in law had hidden the salt shaker, some tragedy in the market, and some transgression of one of his children well before eight o'clock. Yet, someone must love her, because she could smell freshly brewed coffee. With a smile she retrieved a mug from the cupboard and fixed her first blissful cup of the day. As she brought the cup over to the breakfast nook her mind brought her back to an earlier day in the same kitchen.

July 22, 1996

Brenda Barrett covered a yawn as she walked down the kitchen stairs in the Quartermaine mansion. If morning began later in the day it would certainly be easier to deal with.

"But Aunt Brenda promised she would take us," a familiar voice with an uncharacteristic whine floated up the stairs to her. In some ways, it was almost refreshing to hear her nephew Cooper whine because it reinforced that he was nine; not nine going on thirty as she often thought of him. The latter concept was at times more than a little disconcerting since that made him much older than she was.

"Oh, Brenda is going to come with us," Brenda heard AJ Quartermaine promise as she descended the final step into the kitchen.

Brenda immediately reached for a mug from the cupboard and started pouring coffee. "Where am I coming?"

"We're going to the beach!" nine-year-old Kirk Quartermaine said.

"Well, I've got to get to the hospital, you know the earlier you start the first case of the day the less likely the OR schedule will be behind," Dr. Alan Quartermaine said getting up from the table and starting to load his dishes to in the dishwasher.

"I should go as well. Dr. Larmon is in the ER today, bless him, but I'm sure it's going to be a long day. Allison, if you want to invite your friend Matt over for dinner, so your father and I can meet him, then we can discuss this party you want to go to," Monica said as she got up from the breakfast nook as well.

Thirteen-year-old Allison Quartermaine picked her head up flipping her thick black curls back in the process. "How about tonight?"

"Not tonight, I have cardiology journal club. Dr. Dorman is discussing the new cardiac isoenzyme Troponin I. Let's try for Thursday," Monica suggested.

"Yes, that should give grandfather plenty of time to run his background check," AJ joked.

"You know cousin Andrea gets to date now and she is only a year older than I am," Allison protested.

"Andrea isn't our daughter. Invite your friend to dinner Thursday; I'm not on call so that would be a good night. Monica, shall we ride in together?" Alan asked

Monica appeared, to Brenda, to be slightly uncomfortable at that request but she said, "Sure, I'll just have Pierce give me a ride to Journal Club and he can either bring me home or I suppose I could call you from the Olive Branch."

After the Doctors Quartermaine left the kitchen, Brenda made her way over to the breakfast nook still sipping her coffee and sat down next to her nephew. She reached into the basket of muffins in the center of the table and pulled one out as Alan's nephew Ned came into the kitchen with her goddaughter, almost two-year-old, Brooke Lynn Ashton in his arms.

Brooke Lynn was perfectly capable of walking. It was just not something she would do if the other option was being carried by her daddy. To say she was a total daddy's girl was an understatement. In Brenda's mind, that wasn't completely a bad thing; Ned cherished Brooke in a way Brenda knew her own little sister, Breanna, would never be cherished by Harlan.

"Why is grandfather sitting alone in the dining room?" Ned asked.

"Oh, he's just protesting that we don't eat breakfast there, that mom hid the salt shaker, and there was something else I didn't quite catch," twelve-year-old Emily Bowen-Quartermaine volunteered.

Although two-year-old Katelyn was Monica and Alan's youngest child, Emily was technically the newest addition to their family. Emily's mother Paige had died from metastatic breast cancer in November of 1994. Brenda had never known Paige Bowen well as she had died only a few weeks after Brenda had first taken the nanny job at the Quartermaines. It was funny sometimes how quickly things could change. Brenda had gone from having her own servants to nannying to pay for college after her father's newest wife convinced him to dismantle her trust fund. Chronologically the two events had been separated by less than a year.

"The lira is losing ground against the rubel," AJ said.

"He should be more patient on that, it's probably just a false low," Cooper said in between bites of cereal.

Yep we're back at nine going on thirty, Brenda decided.

"How?" Ned started to ask but apparently thought better of his question. "Right, you're Julia's son, of course," he said as he handed Brooke to Brenda.

"Hi sweetheart," Brenda said wrapping an arm around the little girl. "I thought Lois was back?" Brenda said looking up at Ned.

"She is, but I guess she's helping Sonny pack away some of Lily's things. She thought Brooke would be underfoot and quite honestly," Ned said but then he stopped abruptly and seemed to change tactic. "I'm sorry, Brenda, we do completely take advantage of you with babysitting it's not fair. Don't feel like you have to do this I can call my mother," Ned said.

"Oh, but, dear, your mother is in court all week. Judge Rosen had some family emergency so she pushed her vacation back to hear his cases," Lila Quartermaine said.

"Anyway, I don't think Lois would be too thrilled about your idea, Ned," Brenda said.

"No, probably not, but she's going to have to accept at some point that Brooke has two grandmothers and they can both love her."

"Good Luck with that, Ned. But it's fine if Brooke stays with us, we're going to the beach," Brenda said.

"In that case you probably don't need an extra child to watch I'm sorry," Ned said.

"No, it's ok I'll be there so that's really only one two-year-old a piece," AJ said.

"Thanks, AJ. Brenda, I owe you even more," Ned said. He crouched down at Brooke's eye level. "Daddy has to go to work but you're going to play with Katelyn and you're going to be really good for Aunt Brenda and AJ."

"Bye Daddy. I miss you," Brooke said.

"I'll miss you too sweetheart," Ned said.

"Ned, dear, please see if your grandfather is done with his tantrum and would like a ride to the office. His limo is being serviced. Unfortunately, he was too busy sulking to ask Alan and Monica for a ride," Lila said.

"Of course, grandmother," Ned said.

Brenda smiled at the exchange. Lila could always make everything come together.

Brenda took another sip of coffee and reflected on how much had changed in less than fifteen months. Dr. Dorman had been revealed as a drug dealing sociopath, the boy Monica and Alan had been wary about Allison dating had died from a drug overdose, Ned and Lois had divorced, and Ned hadn't actually seen the little girl that had once clung to him in over a year.

"Good Morning!" a sweet little voice pulled Brenda from her thoughts and she turned to see that three-year-old Katelyn Quartermaine had entered the kitchen with her mother.

"Good Morning, Brenda, I guess Alan and Emily must still be out running. Lila was taking Chloe on a pre-breakfast tour of the rose garden. Katelyn, I guess that gives us a few minutes to pull this breakfast salad together and then we can go and wake up your cousin Serena," Monica said as she pulled spinach, raspberries, blueberries, and walnuts from the refrigerator.

"Did Edward hear you were making salad for breakfast and decide he would eat elsewhere?" Brenda asked.

Monica laughed as she helped Katelyn wash her hands in the double sink. "Edward is on a conference call regarding Harver Shipping, he is apparently not to be disturbed."

"I see, so is there anything I can do to help?" Brenda asked.

"If you want to wash the berries that would be great," Monica said as she handed a kitchen towel to her daughter and then moved across the kitchen laid a colander and the raspberries and blueberries down by the prep sink in the island.

"I get to grind the walnuts!" Katelyn said cheerily.

Brenda hit the lever to turn the sink faucet on and started to wash the blueberries. Katelyn was so sweet and only about six months younger than her own younger sister who she rarely saw. Sometimes that made Katelyn's sweet moments incredibly bittersweet.

XXXXXXXX

In the Quartermaine rose garden, Chloe Morgan stepped from the inlaid stone path, laid her nose against the coral rose, and inhaled. "Your rose garden rivals the finest color palettes; I always tell my design associates that so much of my inspiration came from my summers in Port Charles and your wonderful roses."

Lila Quartermaine looked up from her wheelchair, "That is so kind of you to say, dear."

"It is true! It was always so wonderful to come up here in the summer when Amy and I were children. I'm very glad Amy has you now. I wish she could have joined us but I guess she is working on something for Deception."

"The Deception Cosmetics annual stockholders meeting is this Friday. Last year Amy practically ran that herself as Ned was still grieving his loss of Lois and Katherine Bell was being Katherine. This year I suspect Ned is a bit distracted with his new bride and Katherine is definitely still Katherine so I doubt she has much more help," Lila said.

Chloe still didn't understand why her sister was running a cosmetics company in the first place. Her aunt's explanation almost made it sound like Amy was doing Ned a favor and perhaps she was but Chloe sensed that there was so much more to the story that Amy wasn't sharing with her.

Lila Quartermaine reached for her hand. "You look troubled, dear, I hope I haven't said anything to upset you."

"No, no, it isn't you, Aunt Lila. Have you ever known that someone you loved was keeping something important from you?"

"When I married Edward, it took a while for us to establish trust. I know most who know us now will presume that was his doing, but truly, it was much more my issue. You never met my first husband, Crane Tolliver. He was not a nice man. He physically abused me so I left him but he wouldn't grant our divorce. Thirty years ago, times were different; some people and even some courts still considered wives property. I met Edward and his brother was an attorney. He helped me get the courts to grant the divorce. Edward and I married but it took a long time for me to really heal from the prior trauma and trust."

"So, Uncle Edward wasn't keeping things from you, you just felt like he was? I don't think I am imagining that I'm being shut out of my sister's life," Chloe said.

Lila gave Chloe's hand a squeeze. "I wasn't implying that our situations were the same, my dear. Rather, I fear that maybe Amy Elizabeth and I might have more in common than she is able to admit."