VICTORIA

I was just tying my hair back when the knock sounded on the door. Rory and Margaret rushed to the door, their little hands reaching for the knob, but I pulled them back. "Just a minute!" I said.

Perfect timing. I had just ten minutes to walk to work. Though Grace was a sweet girl, it was nice to see that she was punctual. Her father on the phone had said she had much experience taking care of her younger siblings at home.

Pushing Margaret behind me, I opened the door. I was relieved to see the grime and dirt had been washed from her face, and her hazelnut brown hair fell about her shoulders in damp waves. She wore a blue T-shirt and jeans, but not without the characteristic hot pink sweater I'd seen her wear at the shop.

"Good morning." I waved her in, closing the door. "This is Margaret and her brother Rory." When he realized it was a stranger, Rory had run to the kitchen, but the kitchen table leg was a poor choice for a hiding spot. "You'll see Derek in the bedroom playing with his toys. Just check in on him every ten or so minutes."

Grace nodded, dutifully following me through the apartment as I showed her the kitchen, the cramped living room, and the kids' room. Margaret clasped her hand and pointed to her rocking horse. "Horsie!" she said.

Grace went to one knee, grinning widely, and said, "Wow! What's your horsie's name?"

Margaret babbled on, and the knot in my chest relaxed as I saw that Grace's bluntfulness had nothing to do with how she worked with children. I interrupted their play and led Grace over to the refrigerator. "This is my number, my husband's number, and a close friend's number. Her name is Abigail. Whatever you need, you can call any one of us and we'll be down here. Do you have a phone?"

Grace shook her head.

"Use the home phone then." I held up the receiver. "If you get a call, don't answer it, just let it go to voicemail. If it's anyone who needs to reach me, they'll call my cell." I let out a breath. "You ready?"

Grace nodded, her expression one of determination. "Yep."

"My husband will be back at noon." I grabbed my purse from the counter, then handed her a few bills. "Here's your pay. My husband can give your dad a call to come pick you up once he gets here."

Grace smiled, though her expression seemed to be tight now. "Sounds good."

I showed her some snacks for the kids in the fridge, grabbed my purse, and then started down the stairs once I heard the apartment lock click from the inside.

The bakery was in somewhat of a lull when I entered. With a nod to my manager, I tied my hair up and my apron on, and I slipped behind the counter. A nice coworker—whose name tag read Delia—smiled at me. "How's everything going with the kids, Tori?"

I matched her grin, discreetly wiping my hands on my pants. "Fine. We've got a babysitter there right now until Nick gets home from work."

Delia nodded. "I imagine you're nervous. I was when I used to leave my little ones at home. Now that they're all grown up, I certainly miss them."

"I can imagine."

A bunch of teenagers came in for the lunch rush and our conversation was interrupted for later. Her words rang in my ears—grown up. I couldn't believe Margaret, Rory, and Derek were already two years old. We'd already almost outgrown the apartment with the big crib in the cramped nursery, and we definitely will when they graduate to having beds. We could probably keep Margaret in the bed, but with what little time Nick and I spend together during the day, it wouldn't be the best option.

I could feel the threads of desperation creeping up, like a tangle of ivy grounding me in place. Nick worked himself to the bone to build savings, so we can one day buy a house. "Just a little while longer," he'd said last week when I asked. But a little while could mean 2 years or 2 months.

My coworker tapped my shoulder. "Miss them?" She asked with a sympathetic smile.

I shook my head clear of thoughts and forced a smile back. "Yeah, sorry." I started on the coffee and sent a prayer up to God for strength and patience.

* * * 

KATHERINE

The attendant yanked the strings, pushing the last breath out of my lungs, and tied the ribbon at the nape of my neck. I tugged at the lace, then turned around to show Betsy. She regarded me carefully.

"They didn't cut the hem right."

I kicked at the silk that pooled around my ankles. "They can pull it up still. At least it's not too short." I glanced at my best friend, who had leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. She was studying me up and down, but I had a feeling she wasn't thinking of the dress at all at that moment. Her blue eyes shot around the room, settling on the attendant who was now behind the receptionist desk at the far end, then she fixed her eyes back on me.

"Rick told me a little about Katie Dumont," she started slowly. "She owned a company called Dumont Inc." I settled down beside her on the observation couch as she went on. She pulled some papers from her leather purse. "It's a shipping company, intermediary. Dumont has many connections out of Europe, specifically France."

I raised my eyebrows. "Do you know anyone in France?"

She shot me a wry smile. "From my years with my husband, not many. But I have one person I can contact. I'll call her later, when the time difference is better for her."

I nodded, then reached forward and grasped her hands. "I'm sorry, Betsy. I was wrong to try and force you to go see Rick in the first place. I should've considered how difficult it would've been for you—"

"It's okay." She squeezed my hands, then let go, leaving me with the papers. "Keep track of these. I'm sure Matt will have a good file system to keep these hidden."

Undoubtedly.

I let out a breath and shot to my feet. "Okay, Betsy. What say you that I change and we grab a cup of coffee before I have to help Erland with his literature homework this afternoon?"

She leaned back against the couch back. "I'm sure he has a more willing homework partner he'd prefer to enlist than his big sister."

Laughing, I went to change and returned a moment later. A few alterations had to be made still, but it was almost perfect. Almost ready. Just a few more months and I'd be Katherine Burgess, not Malloy. It was nice hearing the name in my head. It erased whatever last dregs of a connection I thought I had with Gramps.

Betsy looped her arm through mine and we walked to the coffee shop on the corner.

We were greeted by the nutty scent of roasted coffee when the door opened. I shot right to the counter, while Betsy lagged behind a moment to study the menu. I ordered a cappuccino with five sugars, and when I stepped back, Betsy asked for an americano. She paid—despite my protests—and waved me into a booth by the window, where we could watch the passing crowds of people.

After a few minutes, a bell dinged and I shot to my feet. "I'll get it," I said, waving a finger at Betsy.

At the counter, I was greeted by a familiar face. "Victoria!" I couldn't help the grin on my face. "It's nice to see you. What are you doing here?"

She gestured sheepishly to her apron. "Working. And it's nice to see you too."

It was funny how I was just thinking about getting Victoria's number a few days ago, and here we happened to stumble into the shop where she worked. "Do you have a minute? I'd love to catch up."

A coworker brushed past Victoria, seemingly on her way in. "Take your break, Masiello," she said, winking at me. "Be back in fifteen."

I grabbed the two coffees and led Victoria over to our booth. Betsy's eyebrows shot up when she sat down, but she didn't say anything. She didn't even look annoyed.

"How's it going?" I asked. "How are the kids?"

Victoria pulled her hat off, wrapping her red ponytail around her finger. "Fine," she said with a sigh. "They should be with Nick now. I hired a babysitter," she added when she noted my confused expression.

"Nice," I said. "There's quite a few kids that will work for babysitting money now that proms are in a few months."

"Not to mention graduation," Betsy added with a wink. She nudged Victoria's shoulder, and she laughed.

"Who's the lucky duck that gets to watch your kids?" I asked.

Victoria grasped a sugar packet between her fingers, pushing the sugar from one side to another. "She's a girl named Grace. She's sweet enough, but I wonder if—" She stopped short, shaking her head. "I spoke with her dad. It appears she's moved to Alabama out of Ohio. She'll actually be going to Harvey High School."

"That's cool," I said. "So Erland might see her around in some of his classes."

"Probably not. He's a senior, right?" I nodded, and she went on. "Well, this girl doesn't look like she's more than eighth grade, so if anything, she'll be a freshman."

"Weird how they're moving out here in the middle of the second semester," Betsy added, taking a sip of her coffee. "It would make more sense to finish the year in Ohio and then come down."

Victoria shrugged. "They didn't give many details and besides, it's none of my business anyway." She almost jumped out of her seat when the sugar packet exploded, raining white over the wooden tabletop. She pinked and scrambled to her feet. "I'm sorry," she said, and swept the super into the palm of her hand at the edge of the table. "I'll clean up. I have to get back to work."

"No worries," I said. "Victoria," I called, and she stopped, swishing her hands clean above the garbage can, "can I get your number? I'd love to invite your family over for dinner sometime."

Victoria smiled, her sea-glass eyes so brilliant I wondered if she was crying. "That would be perfect."