The Moment of Truth

“It might have. If I’d been able to tell him about you. He might have wanted you, Dana. Who knows, maybe he never had children and would be thrilled to find out about you.”

“Daniel is my father.”

Even now. The truth rang within her. Perfect or not, Daniel had been the man who’d been there, paying her way, seeing that she had everything she needed. Protecting her in his own way.

“I should never have let him treat you like he did,” Susan said, her voice stronger than Dana could ever remember. Or maybe she could—from back before that horrible field trip that had changed everything. Her mother used to be strong. And happy.

They all had been.

Her phone beeped, signaling a call. She ignored it.

“You did what you had to do, Mama,” she said, not quite believing she and Susan were having this conversation. “You had the girls to think about.”

“Not at your expense. And while their lives would have been different if I’d left Daniel, they would have been okay, too. Maybe even a little less self-absorbed.”

“But it wouldn’t have been fair to Daniel,” Dana said now, understanding that her mother had been in an untenable situation. “He adored you. Had children by you, and then found out that you’d kept a secret.”

Just like Josh had. She’d always understood Daniel’s sense of betrayal. Had never blamed him. But now, now she didn’t just understand with her head, she got it with her heart.

“He didn’t love me all that much,” Susan said. “Not enough to try to understand why I did what I did. To see that what I did was out of love for him, as much as for my unborn child. I could have raised you alone. Would have done so without hesitation, except for the fact that Daniel and I loved each other so much. I just couldn’t break his heart. And I couldn’t deny you the chance to have such a wonderful man for a father.”

“Maybe if you’d told him the truth back then...”

“He’d have left me,” Susan said. “He’s said so a hundred times.”

“He doesn’t mean it, though.”

“Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, but I can tell you for certain, Dana, that while I made a horrendous mistake, so did Daniel.”

There was nothing to see but pitch-black all around her. Dana was getting a little nervous.

The pups were going to need to go out soon. And they had to be getting hungry.

“How do you figure?”

“Bad things happen in life, Dana. People make mistakes. Everyone does. And one of the things that defines what kind of human beings we are is how we deal with those mistakes. Daniel took my mistake out on an innocent little girl who adored him. Yes, I gave him a raw deal, keeping such a huge secret from him. I know that. I’ve paid the price and will continue to do so until the day I die, but you paid the price, too, Dana, and that didn’t have to happen. He had a right to shun me. He didn’t have a right to shun you.”

A band around Dana tightened. And snapped. She was shaking. And angry. And sad and relieved, too. It was so much at once that she was glad she was on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere.

She started to drive again, very slowly, inching along the shoulder of the deserted road and crying.

“Dana, just promise me one thing, darling.”

Her mother’s voice came out over the speaker, almost as if Susan was right there in the car with her.

Dana so badly wished she was. “What’s that?” She sniffled.

“Don’t make the same mistake Daniel did. Don’t be like him, sweetie. Give your Josh a chance to explain.”

Dana didn’t know if she had that much trust left.

* * *

“WE NEED TO CALL GREG, JOSH.” Cassie’s voice broke through the haze surrounding Josh’s thoughts.

He had no idea where Dana had gone. Cassie and Sam had been all over town looking for her in Sam’s truck. They’d called Lillie, who’d been distraught and was out with Jon, conducting their own search.

Josh had alternated between being at home, and out looking for her, the damned family-tree paper he hadn’t known existed and that she’d obviously unpacked, on the seat beside him in his SUV. He’d had no idea his mother had slipped it into the box she’d sent from the mansion. A little piece of home to go on the road with him, she’d said about the linens. Which was why he’d left it packed. He hadn’t wanted a piece of home to hang on to.

Because he’d feared it would hold him back.

Why on earth he’d given that box to Dana to do with as she wanted, he had no idea.

He called Lori, who knew Jerome’s last name, which allowed him to find the kid’s number. No one had seen Dana since about four o’clock that afternoon.