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At four in the morning, Faith yawned her goodbye to David Reed and a legal secretary named Lisa and climbed into a cab leaving from the law offices. Reed had pulled Lisa from a temporary pool, then decided to keep her on for the duration of what he’d labeled the Baby A & B Hyatt-Littrell case. The young woman, a quite lovely wife of a sailor who was on a submarine somewhere in the Mediterranean, had performed admirably and without any complaint about the hours.

Before their long night ended, Faith developed a grudging respect for her lawyer. David had dates and cases stored in his head from twenty years back. He assigned Faith the job of finding specific cases in his firm’s law library. Which she did, once at a time, carrying the heavy books on file up to him. He, in turn, plowed through the legalese and scribbled out the portions of the text he wished to use at the hearing.

Lisa Dorn organized and typed his copious—-and by Faith’s estimation—-almost illegible notes. The points David chose to emphasize were typed on legal forms, then copied and sent by night courier to the opposing teams. According to David, in cases of this nature, the winning side was often the one that followed each and every rule in the letter.

Faith was exhausted at the close of the ordeal, but she felt she knew where David was headed. The test cases he intended to present had all been won. He’d decided to use quotes from ten in all. In each instance, a grandparent or other family member had been awarded custody over a biological parent.

Of course, Faith thought, as she let herself into her dark and silent apartment, Brian’s and Nick’s attorneys had probably spent the night at precisely the same chore. Only, Brian’s team would cite cases where a divorced parent had won. Nick’s lawyers might have the hardest job. David said that until the DNA came back, Nick would have the weaker case. They had only his word and hearsay evidence from a very ill Chloe that the couple had engaged in an intimate affair. David said he’d expected Nick’s team to present signed affidavits from friends or staff at the country club who’d seen the couple together. It was still secondhand evidence. Reed doubted very much that anyone other than Nick could swear to the intimacy part.

If Shelby Carter attended the hearing, it seemed less likely Nick would want his and Chloe’s activities explored at any great length. Or maybe that didn’t matter to him. Faith had heard of open marriages, in which both partners conducted affairs. She’d hate for Chloe’s babies to be raised in such an atmosphere.

As she tossed and turned in bed, Faith wished she could drop off to sleep. She’d set her alarm for eight-thirty. It was now six o’clock. Two and a half-hours of rest would be better than none at all. Then it occurred to her that a single mother of new twins would undoubtedly have sleepless nights, staying up till dawn with sick of colicky infants. Maybe the judge would be impressed to learn that Faith could function on little to no sleep.

She finally drifted off, and dreamed of the hearing. A clerk escorted her into a damp, dark dungeon. The judge sat in a throne chair, higher than anyone else in the room. His eyes were empty red holes. When he spoke, tongues of fire flicked out over the tables.

Brian looked coolly handsome in a blue suit, white dress shirt and a solid blue tie. Nick had on white pants, a navy jacket and striped tie. Though Faith had never seen Nick’s wife, Brian had described her. Shelby sat regally at Nick’s side. The elder Mr. Carter chewed on a huge cigar and looked exactly like a scary version of Bill Clinton.

In her dream, Faith wore her nursing shoes and wrinkled white stockings, hideously unattractive with an apple-green suit that had once belonged to her mother.

Nick sneered, Shelby smirked and Brian laughed. The judged whammed an alarmingly gigantic gavel and roared for silence. That was when Faith noticed that the table she’d been assigned was empty. At Brian’s and Nick’s sides, lawyers busily sorted stacks of well-prepared documents. David had left her to face the mess alone.

Gasping and panting, Faith shot bolt upright in bed. The clock said six-twenty.

Not wanting to risk a return to the same awful dream, Faith turned on the light and climbed out of bed. As she gathered a towel and clothes to put on after showering, she thought she heard water running in the apartment next door. She pressed an ear to the wall and listened. Nothing. Obviously she was hearing things.

“Another figment of your overactive imagination.” The next-door apartment had been vacant for six months. Eccentric old Mrs. Coleman who’d lived there had everyone in the building except for Faith convinced she was a witch. The woman had looked the part and habitually said some strange things. Rumors circulated about odd lights and secretive activity in the dead of the night. Faith had never seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. However, there was no denying the unit had developed a stigma that made it virtually unrentable. Rumors of that nature had a way of spreading to potential tenants.

Every time she saw the building manager, Mr. Kinney complained about a perfectly good apartment going to waste. Faith thought to herself how fortuitous it was that at least she wouldn’t have to worry about a next-door neighbor annoyed by crying babies.

And Evan and Elyse did have fine sets of lungs each, she acknowledged around a smile as she spun the shower knobs and stepped beneath at fast, hot spray.

She felt much better after the shower. And more alert. The pale pink suit she’d bought lifted her spirits another notch. It was completely unlike the ghastly outfit she’d worn in her dream. A softly gored skirt gave the ensemble a feminine touch, as did the classic tucked in blouse. Faith rarely took time to apply make-up. Today she wore a thin gloss of pink lipstick and a touch of mauve eyeshadow. The clerk at the cosmetic counter said Faith’s eyes were her best feature and had convinced her to enhance them a little. Enhancement couldn’t hurt on this all-important occasion, when she wanted to influence the people deciding the fate of the twins.

Still, she was nervous. She tried not to think what would happen if the judge refused to consider her claim on the babies. To fight a queasy stomach, she carried a glass of milk to the nursery and sat there until the bright, cheery surrounding worked their magic and brought her a measure of serenity.

By the time her stomach stopped feeling jittery, she had only twenty minutes to reach the courthouse. So, for the second day in a row, she splurged on a cab.

As in her nightmare, a clerk did lead her to the judge’s chambers. There the resemblance ended. Not only did Judge Brown not sit on a throne and breathe fire, she was a regal-looking African American woman. David Reed had arrived ahead of her, and seeing him there, sorting through a briefcase full of papers, dissolved the last uncomfortable knot in Faith’s stomach.

Brian stood when she approached the horseshoe shaped table. “You look nice.” He said, sliding a hand the length of his tie. He wore a summer-weight khaki suit, not blue as in her dream. His shirt was pale blue and his tie another shade of blue--which complimented his shirt as well as his bright eyes--but was covered in comical turtles. The tie elicited a grin from Faith.

“You like it?” He asked with a smile that deepened the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. “It was a gift from the last kid I transplanted. A girl in Norway. She’s an incredible artist. She drew the turtles freehand and silk-screened them on this material. I think she has a promising future.” Growing suddenly sober, he let the tie drop. “Six months ago she was knocking on death’s door. You’ll probably say this is corny, but when the tie came in the mail last week, I got this insane notion that it’s a lucky charm.” Brian lifted his shoulders to shrug nonchalantly.

“There’s nothing corny about it.” Faith opened her purse and fished out a framed piece of glass, which embedded a four-leaf clover.

Seeming to relax, Brian unbuttoned his jacket and perched on the edge of Faith’s table. He flagged an eyebrow toward the left side of the room. “Do you suppose old Nick is carrying a rabbit’s foot?”

She peered around him at the huddle of immaculately dressed people surrounding Nick, and a pretty woman she assumed was his wife. “I’d say he’s relying on Roman numerals...and perhaps his good luck charm is a seashell.” She couldn’t help but grin at her tease of Nick’s sea obsession.

Unlike in her dream, Nick wasn’t wearing yachting clothes. If his silk designer suit didn’t have “Made in Italy” stitched on the label, Faith would eat his conservative navy tie. Mrs. Carter was pretty much the way Faith had pictured her, up to and including the frosty pursing of her lips. But Faith couldn’t have been more wrong about Nick’s father. The man, who could have been anywhere from fifty to sixty, was in total command over there. Fit, tan and blonde, dressed in what was obviously a hand-tailored suit, he was clearly accustomed to being the center of attention.

Faith disliked the elder Mr. Carter on sight. He had cold blue eyes and a shark’s smile.

As if Brian read her mind, he murmured, “I’d do anything to keep that bastard from renaming Evan and branding him with that damned III.”

A crew of maintenance workers entering the room through the side door kept Faith from responding. Talk stopped as the men set a small table and a comfortable looking leather chair at the center of the horseshoe for the judge. The clerk who’d led Faith to the room took her place behind the stenographer.

Judge Brown smiled at the men. “Thank you, gentleman, for your help.” Her interested gaze touched everyone at the table before she opened her briefcase and removed a spiral-bound notebook. Two more people entered the room. A man and a woman. Both wore plain, dark suits. They claimed the empty seats next to David.

“Who are they?” Brian asked Faith in an undertone. “Have you hired a full legal team--like Carter?”

“I’ve never seen them before. They’re obviously acquainted with the judge.” Which was true, as the trio exchanged pleasantries.

“In the interest of time,” the judge said briskly as she settled into the leather chair and steepled graceful fingers, “I propose we get right down to business.” She waved a hand in the direction of the newcomers. “Even though this meeting will be conducted as a hearing, I’ve taken the liberty of including two senior legal advisors from Family Services. Daniel Burgess and Barbara Lang. In the event of this should evolve into a trial, Mr. Burgess and Ms. Lang will represent the minor children on behalf of the state of Massachusetts.”

Faith felt her stomach go into spin cycle. Had she been naïve, thinking they’d walk out of here today with a settlement? Apparently. Brian caught her eye. He, too, appeared surprised and uneasy.

None of the lawyers scattered around the table, however, seemed taken aback by the announcement. One by one they nodded and jotted notes on their legal pads.

Judge Brown relaxed in her chair. “Shall we continue introductions? In the Carter camp, Nick Carter the second, the plaintiff. He’s flanked on either side by his wife Shelby, and his father, Nick Carter the first. Their legal team, Bob and Keith Schlegel and Nancy Matz of Schlegel, Schlegel and Matz are from NYC.”

There was a faint rustling around the table as everyone eased forward to get a look at their competition.

Judge Brown shuffled her notes. “Plaintiff number two, Brian Littrell, MD. He’s represented by James Maxwell, who also practices in New York. Plaintiff three, Ms. Faith Hyatt, RN. She’s retained David Reed, who is a partner in the local firm of Masterson, Reed and Jacoby. Now that we have preliminaries out of the way, ladies and gentlemen, we’ll begin hearing from each of you in the matter of custody for twins of the deceased Chloe Hyatt-Littrell. I’ll recognize one counselor at a time. I trust the main concern of everyone in this room is the well-being of the two minors. I assure you that I will not make any hasty decisions regarding their welfare. Whether we need one meeting or ten, we’ll reconvene until I’m satisfied we’re doing what’s right for innocent children.”

She sent a withering gaze around the table. Someone in a dark suit entered the office with a glass pitcher and poured water into empty glasses that sat in front of each person, including the judge. When that had been accomplished and he’d shut the door again, the judge resumed. “Bob Schlegel filed the first formal request with regard to this case. Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Reed have both responded on behalf of their clients. So I’ll ask Bob if he has anything further to add.”

The white-haired member of the Carter team cleared his throat. “You Honor, Mr. and Mrs. Carter have read the rebuttals. Their position hasn’t changed. Mr. Carter II is committed to a summer and fall sailing team. He is, of course, also an officer in his father’s stock brokerage firm. My client is willing to leave his place on the team at the end of the season. However, he can hardly be expected to let the other team members down.”

“I don’t believe anyone has asked him to quit the team.” The judge said. “Dr. Littrell merely suggests that Mrs. Carter assume her husband’s visiting privileges until her returns. Ms. Hyatt’s counter-brief indicates essentially the same.”

There was a scraping together of the chairs at the Carter end of the horseshoe. Faith wished she had a clearer view of the proceedings, but she sat in a curve that excluded her from seeing either Nick or Shelby’s faces.

The younger Schlegel broke out of the huddle. “Shelby Carter is undergoing complicated fertility treatments in New York. I’m sure in this enlightened day and age, I don’t have to spell out the delicacy of the procedures. I think it’s sufficient to say the success or failure of the process depends in part on the patient’s optimal physical and mental condition. We contend the two-hour commute from New York to Boston would place undue stress on Mrs. Carter.”

James Maxwell voiced what sprang to Faith’s mind. “Judge Brown, I’d like to ask the esteemed Counselor Schlegel how that compares to the stress of caring for infant twins? I hate to be indelicate, but if Mrs. Carter’s fertility quest is successful, she could be dealing with three children under one year of age. Or possibly more.”

David Reed drew attention to himself by leaning back and gesturing widely with one arm. “Mr. Maxwell has brought up an excellent point, Judge. I’m sure my client would be interested in seeing statistics relative to known numbers of multiples born to mothers who’d undergone fertility treatment. I’ve read it’s a high percentage.”

All three of the Carter’s lawyers scowled. The judge prodded them to answer. “What about that, counselors? Have you and your client discussed what would happen in the event Shelby Carter conceives twins or triplets?”

Again the group conferred. Brian nudged Faith. An interesting concept, he mouthed silently.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. For the first time she was glad Chloe had found David Reed. He’d certainly thrown the Carter camp, as the judge had called it, a major curve. Nick’s father’s eyebrows waved wildly at the team members.

At last Bob Schlegel rallied. “Your Honor, may we suggest that the Counselors Maxwell and Reed are trying to cross a bridge before we come to it? Mrs. Carter hasn’t yet conceived. Perhaps our colleagues are trying to steer us away from the question at hand. That of fair play."

“Nothing of the kind.” David broke in gruffly. “You many not be aware that I had the privilege of serving Chloe Hyatt-Littrell at the time she took ill. I assure you the Carters’ fertility issue was very much on her mind when she directed me to draft her custody papers. You see, young Nick told her he was returning to his wife because she’d found a new fertility method to try.”

Faith frowned. She had told David that. He’d said Chloe had implied Nick was dead. She didn’t want David lying on her behalf.

“So then Chloe admitted Nick fathered her babies.” Argued the last member of the Carter legal team. Nancy Matz sounded very pleased she’d picked up on that.

James Maxwell twirled his pen. “Seems to me none of the topics under discussion make a lick of sense until we get the results of the DNA tests done on my client and Carter.”

The judge nodded. “I agree.”

“About damn time.” Snapped the eldest Carter.

“Dad.” Nick muttered.

Clearly not happy with the elder Carter’s outburst, Judge Brown opened a watch that hung on a gold chain around her neck. “I have to preside in court in half an hour. Up to this point, we’ve made little progress, although that’s fairly standard for the first meeting. I must say Mr. Maxwell has a point. It’s senseless to proceed until the DNA results are in. I’d be happy to set a tentative date for...say, six weeks down the line. Or we could wait until the lab has the report and schedule a meeting then.”

James Maxwell closed the folder he’d been working from. “I vote we wait for the results. My client said the technician told him it could be from four to six weeks.”

The Schlegels spoke in unison. “Affirmative.” Then Keith Schlegel folded his hands across his pudgy stomach. “I take it we agree that no one visits the babies until our client returns from his trip?”

David Reed all but bounded from his chair. “I’ll agree to no such thing! Didn’t any of you read the testimony from Dr. Sampson that I enclosed in my rebuttal? Sampson is the pediatrician attending the twins. The babies are up to weight and he plans to let them go home from the hospital next week.”

“Home to where?” chorused James Maxwell and all of Carter’s counselors.

“Home with Ms. Hyatt.” David growled. “I believe she is the legal custodian, at least until the matter of paternity is settled.”

An uproar exploded around the table. Judge Brown didn’t have a gavel, but she did rap her knuckles on her table until order resumed. “Granted, Mr. Reed, you did properly file custody papers for Chloe Hyatt-Littrell. I’d remind you, however, I can still make the twins wards of court.” She nodded at the couple seated to David’s right.

“That’s correct.” Mr. Burgess said, all the while bobbing his head. “Barbara and I can request they be placed in a neutral foster home until such time as the DNA results come in and another hearing is arranged.”

Faith cried out. She hardly realized she’d grabbed Brian’s arm. He, too, lost his color and swallowed repeatedly before covering her hand with his.

Reed rubbed his chin several times before he spoke. “I’m not disputing your power to place the children elsewhere, your Honor. I guess I assumed you’d grant my client temporary custody, since we all agreed at the beginning of today’s hearing that the welfare of the twins is our top priority. No matter what the DNA proves, she will continue to play a role in Evan and Elyse’s lives.” He gave an eloquent shrug.

Keith Schlegel narrowed his eyes. “Judge Brown, I contend Reed is playing us all for fools. My client would have set up a nursery if he’d been aware the babies were so close to being released.”

Brian didn’t wait for his attorney to speak for him. “Your client might have known that if he’d bothered to visit the twins. I’ve seen Faith interacting with the babies. She loves them, and they already know her. I have no objection to placing the babies in her care temporarily.”

Again there was a moment of disruption in the room. Then, as expected, the senior Carter convened his team They all talked separately and at once. Faith tried not to be anxious, but her stomach rolled like a ship on the high seas. She wanted Chloe’s babies permanently and refused to dwell on the word "temporary." Right now, she prayed they wouldn’t fight her taking Evan and Ellie home from the hospital. She’d dreamed of seeing them sleep peacefully in their new cribs. Even if they were torn from her during a later battle, they deserved to spend their first months with family rather than a foster family—-strangers who couldn’t possibly love them as much as she did.

Brian squeezed her fingers and gave her a lopsided smile. “Relax.” He murmured. “Carter and his cronies might now want to let you take the kids. But it’s clear Nick and Shelby aren’t ready to give them a home.”

“I don’t know.” She whispered back. “With their resources, how long would it take for them to buy out a baby store and install it all in their mansion?”

“Do you really think the judge would go for that? She doesn’t strike me as a woman who misses much. I may be wrong, but I have the feeling she wondered why, if they were truly excited about taking the twins, Shelby was still going through her fertility treatments.”

“Hmmm. I can’t help feeling sorry for Shelby. Not too many women would welcome a husband’s illegitimate offspring with open arms.”

“Oh? Wouldn’t you if you loved the man?”

Faith frowned. “Do you doubt there’s love between them?” She sighed. “Poor Evan and Elyse. They’ll still probably go to live with Nick after the results of the DNA come back.”

“Thanks a lot.” Brian stiffened in his chair. “Those are my babies. Trust me—-I can feel they’re my own flesh and blood when I hold them.”

She pursed her lips. “I know what Chloe believed. She thought her baby was Nick’s.”

David shushed them as Bob Schlegel’s deep voice rang out. “My client will approve of Ms. Hyatt acting as the foster parent. He does request that she bring the children to see his father and Mrs. Carter at least once a week during the time he’s away. And another thing,” the man concluded, cutting through Faith’s protesting gasp, “we object to Ms. Hyatt having named the children. Please stipulate that she refrain from using those names while they’re in her care.”

David Reed snorted. “My client doesn’t own a car. She relies on walking to get to her appointments around town. Before Schlegel suggests she use public transit, may I remind him we’re talking about two premature babies? Dragging them back and forth to New York City on a packed commuter train is inviting exposure to all kinds of viruses and germs.”

The judge glanced from one lawyer to the other. “Mr. Schlegel, that request does seem a bit excessive. As we’ve already established it unfeasible for Mrs. Carter to travel, I’m granting Ms. Hyatt the same privilege—-she can keep the babies at home. I will allow the grandfather visiting rights, provided he calls and arranges a convenient time with Ms. Hyatt and doesn’t just barge in without notice.”

Nick didn’t look too pleased. Clearly he was a man unused to having people thwart him.

“About the matter of the names, your Honor...” One of the Schlegels reintroduced his earlier objection.

David jumped in before Judge Brown had a chance to answer. “It’s a small matter to request a legal change of name if and when the DNA proves Mr. Carter is the biological father. My client was simply following her sister’s wishes in naming her daughter. Chloe, you understand, did not know she was having twins. Anyway, at this age, what’s in a kid’s name?”

Faith felt the argument between the men swirl around her. David hadn’t said anything she hadn’t said herself. Only now, she’d begun to think of these babies as Evan and Elyse. She doubted she’d ever be able to call them anything else. There was David maintaining babies couldn’t possibly identify the sound of a name at such a young age. She’d be a fool to refute him in this crowd. But not for a minute did she believe that what he’d said was true. The names fit the twins. And from the moment she’d begun calling them by name, they seemed to respond. It hadn’t just been her imagination. It truly hadn’t.

Nancy Matz made herself heard above the heated discussion among the male attorneys. “Gentleman, perhaps we could settle on a written agreement from Ms. Hyatt. One stating she won’t contest a name change at the time paternity is determined.”

David bent his head toward Faith. “If you don’t want them reneging on allowing you to take the twins home, let them have their way on this. They’re assuming you won’t press your custody suit once paternity is established. It suits me to let them labor under false impressions. Why give them more time to prepare a defense?”

“All right.” She said slowly. “I suppose I also have to agree to let Nick’s father visit.”

“Yes. Be happy we won a major victory without really having to get in the trenches and fight dirty. I never expected either of the men to agree so readily to your guardianship.”

“Temporary guardianship.” Faith said with distaste.

David Reed closed his folder. “Haven’t you heard that possession is nine-tenths of the law? It applies to custody as well as material objects. Unless you strongly object, I’m about to make a truly magnanimous gesture on your part.”

“Wh-what?” Faith stammered.

“We’ll invite Burgess and Lang to make an appointment to visit you. My thinking here is they’ll see what a natural mom you are. It couldn’t hurt if they recommended leaving the babies in your care, in the event that we have to take off the gloves and fight Carter.”

Something about his glee at the prospect of a down-and-dirty fight didn’t sit well with Faith. He’d prepared her the other night, of course. But she’d hoped against hope that it wouldn’t come to a bitter court confrontation. It was probably naïve of her to dream anyone with rightful access to these babies would voluntarily step aside. Her sigh could be heard throughout the room.

David bounced the tips of his fingers together as he talked. “Ms. Hyatt will sign a waiver with regard to names. I’ll have it notarized. She welcomes scheduled visits to Nick’s father. We’ll include her address when we forward the waiver. Also...” he dragged out the word until he had everyone’s attention. “Ms. Hyatt extends invitations to Dr. Littrell and Mr. Burgess and Ms. Lang. That ought to be quite agreeable to all parties, don’t you think, Judge?”

As Brian had said, Judge Brown was nobody’s fool. She stared intently at Faith until she almost blurted out that it had been Reed’s idea, not hers. Seconds before Faith could disgrace herself, the judge picked up her pen and made a few notations on her pad.

“I believe we’ve answered all immediate questions.” She said at length. “I see we’re out of time.” She checked her watch again. “Unless some unforeseen problem arises, we won’t reconvene as a group until the DNA results come in.”

The judge stood and gathered her belongings. Everyone in the room rose and waited quietly while she moved around the horseshoe and shook each hand in turn. “My son has twin boys,” she murmured as she clasped Faith’s fingers in her cool hand. “I wonder if you know how much work you’ve let yourself in for.” Giving a small laugh, she released Faith’s clammy fingers. “Twins are a lot more than twice the work of a single child, believe me. My husband and I went to help our son and daughter-in-law when the boys were born. It took four adults running around the clock to take care of those little tadpoles. I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.”

Faith gave a sickly smile. Judge Brown had hit on the elusive uneasiness that had haunted Faith, but which, so far, she’d successfully held at baby. Competent as she was, she was afraid she didn’t have what it took to be an adequate mother to two. Because, in the back of her mind, she’d never believed she’d handled raising Chloe well.

“Faith?”

She came crashing back to earth. Judge Brown and her clerk had both left the chamber; Carter’s entourage were packed up and scuttling out, too. “Sorry, Brian. I must have, um, spaced out for a minute.”

“Looked that way.” He teased. “What I said was that the hearing wasn’t nearly as bloody as I expected.”

“Bloody? I...uh...no. It was quite civil, wasn’t it?”

“I suppose this was luck.” He mused, loosening the knot on his tie. “Once we get the results of the DNA, I assume the two of us left in the fray will be more inclined to duke it out with no holds barred.”

“Is that your way of warning me not to expect you to be so nice the next time around?” She asked. “By the way, Brian, if you hope to be taken seriously, don’t wear that tie again. Those silly turtles would make anyone want to laugh. But perhaps you missed the look on Judge Brown’s face when she stopped to shake your hand.”

“I saw. If you ask me, she said to herself ‘Now that Brian guys is human. Daddy material.’ I’m sure of it.” Brian grinned.

“Was there doubt?” Faith said dryly.

“Some people think doctors are a stuffy lot.”

“Really? Well, other people consider them playboys. Surgeons especially have a bad reputation in the family market.”

“Well, if that isn’t a generality, I don’t know what is. I didn’t end my marriage. Chloe left me.”

“Mmmm. So she said. Because you were never around. How will that play in a future courtroom drama, I wonder?”

The smile lingering on Brian’s lips winked out. He studied her cool features a moment, then abruptly dismissed himself. Stepping around her, he struck up a conversation with David Reed, and the two walked out, chatting amiably.

Faith was left alone to ponder how her exchange with Brian had gone awry. Sadly, she’d never known how to hold his interest. Not that it mattered now. What did matter was that she’d fulfilled her promise to Chloe, if only temporarily.