"What about these?" Ali held out a small velvet box containing a pair of silver cufflinks.

Her mother glanced at the items and after briefly turning up her nose she offered, "Charity."

Lynn had asked her daughter to come over to the house and help sort through her father's clothing and effects. The idea was to divide the contents into two lots, keep and charity. So far there was not a lot in the keep pile.

"Unless Sam would like them?" her mother asked.

Ali tossed the cufflinks into the charity box. She couldn't even remember her father wearing them. With little sentimental value, they were better off going to someone who could use them. The shelter they were donating the clothing and personal items would sell some of the stuff to help cover the day-to-day costs of running the place. Although not officially on the board of the Liberty for All Foundation since moving to New York, Ali tried to support them where she could.

Her mother was folding a bright blue tie before adding it to the others in a large clear Tupperware container in front of her. "When does your plane leave tomorrow?"

"10 a.m." Sam had an event for Leif the following day and Ali had agreed to return to New York City to attend it with him. She was trying to not look at it as a retreat, but with all her options to find a solution to Stinson Studios' money problems gone and the shareholder's meeting looming, Ali felt like a failure.

Pushing those thoughts down deep, she picked up another set of cufflinks. They were gold coins, one a laughing face, the other a crying face. Very theatrical and not at all what Ali thought her father would ever wear. She started to toss them in the charity pile but hesitated.

"Mom, what about these?"

Her mother put down the patterned tie in her hand and crossing the room, almost lovingly caressed the smiling face. "I bought these for your father on our honeymoon. In Venice. I... I used all my pocket money on them. We'd spent the night at the opera and then when we got back to our hotel, well, we created our own rendition of La Traviata."

"Mom, please," Ali tried not to roll her eyes. Still, it was a rare moment, her mother looking wistful and recalling a tender memory with her father.

Growing up her parents had presented a unified front, ever the power couple to the outside world. Behind closed doors, however, they almost led two separate lives. Daniel Stinson let his wife hold her ladies luncheons and go on her spa trips – as long as it didn't interfere with his needs. The times it came down to what her mother wanted versus her father; Lynn gave in instantly.

"Things were good once," Lynn murmured to herself.

Sucking in air, the faint aroma of her father's cologne invaded Ali's senses. It conjured up images of him standing in this room, going through the routine of putting on his cufflinks, watch and finally his suit jacket. Her father's daily suit of armour. Ali wasn't sure what made her ask, the words were out of her mouth before she knew it. "Why did you marry him?"

Never before had her mother looked at her the way she did then. The two women for a moment silently understood each other. Ali getting the confirmation of her suspicions that her mother didn't love her father, hadn't for a very long time. And Lynne seeming to grasp the fact her daughter could see through her well-constructed illusions, past the shiny perception of a happy marriage and through to the reality of a woman trapped in a loveless existence.

Then something shifted. It was as if that look, that moment cracked the façade her mother had been nurturing for years and the thin layer of sugar glass splintered.

For the first time, Lynn let her daughter in. "I didn't really have a choice."

The honesty of Lynn's words hit Ali like a gale wind, and she wobbled. Stepping away from the drawer with her father's jewellery, she sank into the square ottoman in the middle of the walk-in closet. The navy-blue silk material stretched, the raised pattern brushing against the palm of her hand, soft yet rough. Her mother echoed her movements, sitting beside her daughter. Ali held her tongue hoping her mother would elaborate.

"I... When I was young... Life in my father's house was ... difficult." Lynn must have seen Ali's eyes widen as she raised a hand in defence. "On, no, not like that. My father never hit me. On purpose. But he was... hard. It was his house and anyone living under his roof had to live by his rules."

Ali had never met either of her grandparents. By the time Lynn had finally gotten pregnant with Ali only her grandfather on Daniel's side was still living. She was five when he died and had some misty memories of a frail man who stamped his cane in frustration at the nurses from the retirement community he lived in.

"My older brother left at 16. As children, we would dream of running away together. But when the moment came, John knew he couldn't take me with him. My father disowned him, banned my mother and me from seeing him or even so much as speaking his name. What had always been a drink or two after dinner and the occasional bender on holidays or when his team didn't win a game, turned into a ... nasty habit."

Biting her lip, Ali suppressed a million questions popping into her head. Lynn reached across the gap between them and placed a hand on hers. The move felt foreign yet comforting at the same time.

"I'm only telling you this so you'll understand why I did it." Her blue eyes looked to the ceiling. "Your grandfather was not a bad man. The world around him was changing and he wouldn't or couldn't change with it. I think he felt left behind and as a result, he ruled what little kingdom he had left with an iron fist."

She wanted to tell her mother it didn't give him the right to abuse her. During her time volunteering at the woman's shelter she'd seen how men used a multitude of excuses to garner sympathy from the women in their lives, to convince them to stay. Manipulation of their feelings. Using their children as pawns in the war for independence. Anything that would give them power over another.

Lynn continued. "When I met your father, he was dashing and daring. My father instantly liked him. That should have been my first warning sign. It was only after we were married and Daniel... showed his true colours. Turns out daughters really do marry versions of their fathers."

Is this what she had done with Jack? Ali's stomach turned. Had she married a facsimile of her own father?

When they first met, she appreciated how Jack managed things, thinking it romantic the way he opened doors for her, arranged where they would eat, what they would do. Her friends were impressed or envious of the doting boyfriend. It felt like he was taking care of her every whim. Unlike her father who didn't seem interested in her existence anymore, Jack showered her with attention.

Daniel Stinson had instantly liked Jack as well. The weekend she first brought him home Ali had been nervous to introduce him to her father. Afraid he would put Jack through some probation period, be aloof and gruff like he had with her former boyfriends. But the opposite had happened. They easily fell into conversation, as if they were two old friends seeing each other after a prolonged absence.

"So, you married Dad to... what? Escape your father?" Ali's words came out harsher than she intended. Lynn screwed up her face before tsking and turning away from her daughter.

"You make it sound like I had a choice." Lynn bit out.

"Didn't you?"

Lynn shook her head. "Ali, you have no idea what it was like. It was a different time. I didn't have the opportunities you have. I had no education, no money, no prospects. My parent's only expectation of me was to marry, to live a comfortable life." She folded her hands in her lap. "A Stinson surname provided all that and more. It gave my family prestige again. With your father's money, I could help them out. I bought them expensive gifts, paid for luxury vacations, got mom the best healthcare possible when she fell ill."

Her mother's words were shedding new light on her life and changing Ali's perspective. Not sure she would have made the same choices, but she was beginning to understand why her mother had chosen the life she had. "I'm sorry mom. I... I didn't know."

With the apology, Lynn didn't quite meet her eye but the older woman's posture relaxed.

"Mom," Ali wasn't sure she should push yet she didn't know if she would ever have the opportunity to ask again. "Why did you stay so long?"

A mirthless chuckle escaped her lips. "Ali. Where would I go?" Lynn raised her chin as if steeling herself to the confession she was about to give. "I wasn't fit for anything except to be your father's wife."

"Mom," Ali gasped. "That's not true. You have many talents."

"Nice of you to say, dear. But I certainly never felt that way. Besides, it wasn't a bad life. Most of the time." A shadow fell across Lynn's face and Ali had a suspicion she was thinking about the fertility issues and the bouts of depression following each failure.

Lynn shook her shoulders. "Anyway. I'd made my bed and I had to lay in it."

The words echoed in Ali's mind, back to a time they were directed at her. When she had finally worked up enough courage to confide in her mother about the difficulties in her marriage to Jack, Lynn had thrown those words at her. At the time Ali had been hurt by them, hurt by the lack of support from her own mother.

"I suppose I got used to things. Your father gave me a role to play in his life and I played it. He arranged everything. I didn't have a care in the world." Lynn shifted on the ottoman. "Until I woke up and realized the lack of responsibility meant I was completely dependant on him. He wouldn't even let me have my own bank account or credit card."

"What?"

"Yes, dear. You see now. I was stuck. And when he had the stroke, I didn't know what to do."

"You did your best. I saw how you looked after him every day at the hospital. He .. he knew you were there."

Lynn laughed that emotionless laugh again. "I mean with Jack."

"Jack?"

Grasping Ali's hand, her mother practically vomited her explanation. "Daniel gave him power of attorney over everything. The bank accounts, even this house. If he'd wanted to Jack could have kicked me out of my own home, left me penniless in the street." Lynn's face was flush, her mouth a hard line. "So, I did what I had to do. I... made nice with the man. He made it clear I was to vote with him and Spencer to make him acting CEO. And the night you came home when he asked... no demanded to move in here what choice did I have?"

She was squeezing her hand so tightly it almost hurt. Part of Ali wanted to wrench her fingers free in frustration at her mother's weakness and the other part had a strange urge to comfort her mother. She could relate to her predicament. Jack had been blackmailing Lynn. Ali chastised herself for not seeing it. It was Jack's MO after all.

"Mom, why didn't you say something. I ... I could have- "

"Done something? If I'd told you and you acted, he would have stolen everything your father worked for away from us. Without a single thought for me. Just to spite you, Ali. It's all about you."

Ali swallowed hard. The terror in her mother's voice was infecting her.

"Jack can't let you go."

"Well, he's going to have no choice."