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me about her plan to have Matthew spend time alone with Daniel. She says Daniel’s made great strides, and I must say, in fairness, he’s quite good with the children.”

Of course. Taumaturgio was always a favorite with kids.

“Fine. Let Fran arrange for him to take care of some of those kids alone.”

“If it’s good for Matthew–”

“It’s not. It would be the worst thing for Matthew. He’d get used to having a father around, and when Daniel takes off it’ll be all the harder for him. And I’ll be left trying to patch up his heartache.”

“Haven’t you ever heard the expression that it’s better to love and lose than never to love at all.” Marti didn’t quite pull off her attempted teasing tone.

“Yes, I’ve heard it, and I’ve always thought it incredibly stupid.”

Marti said with no attempt at humor, “Oh, I don’t know. You came through it okay.”

“Me?” It had hurt plenty when she’d discovered Paulo Ayudor. didn’t exist. Not that she’d really loved him. “It’s Matthew we’re talking about, not me. A child, and–”

“I know. A child who could get a lot out of spending time alone with his–or her–father. And even if that father can no longer be in the child’s life for some reason, that time alone together remains special. Just like your time alone with your father was special.”

“I don’t remember my father, much less spending time alone with him.”

“Don’t you?”

“No, I don’t. So apparently it wasn’t as special as you and Fran think time alone for Matthew and Daniel would be–and I was four when my father left.”

“I’m sorry you don’t remember that time with your father, because you loved it so much as a little girl, but the fact you don’t remember it argues that having Matthew and Daniel spend time alone together can’t do any harm.”

Kendra exhaled through her teeth. She wasn’t going to leave her son’s heart to something as paltry as logic. She knew Daniel would break his heart.

“I don’t care what Fran says, or you say or anyone else says. I am not going to leave Matthew solely in Daniel’s care. Not a week from Saturday night, not ever.”

“I didn’t–”

“Marti, I have to go. It’s busy today.”

“Okay, but I don’t want you to think–”

“Bye, Marti.”

She hung up, determined to concentrate completely on rewriting the news release into the required brief, leaving no attention to spare for anything else.

It took longer than it should have. She’d put the final touches on it and was storing the item into the editor’s computer basket when the computer system burped over a power surge. When she called the item back up to check, it contained one line.

She had to start all over.

What else could go wrong today?

*

Kendra hadn’t seen him angry before–not as Tompkins, not as Paulo and not as Daniel Benton Delligatti.

She had only a fraction of a second’s doubt of his emotional state when she looked up from her computer at the Banner shortly after noon and saw him striding toward her.

Matthew.

That had been her first heart-in-her-mouth fear when she glimpsed Daniel, whose morning shift at the co-op should have ended shortly before. But as soon as she saw his face, she knew anger drove him, not worry or fear.

His face was grim, his posture tense, his mouth narrow, the glint that frequently lurked in his eyes nowhere in sight.

Even as her muscles prepared to bring her out of the chair, to meet him half way, to ask him what was wrong, the whisper of memory echoed in her head.

What’s wrong? Tell me what I did wrong? Please, just tell me–I’ll do better. Please, don’t leave. Please . . . .

But her mother’s pleas never worked. The men always left, one way or the other. And her mother always fell apart.

She left her young daughter to deal with the practicalities. Until, after a period that seemed to grow a little longer with each incident, Wendy Susland Jenner pulled together the pieces of herself that remained and went searching for the next man who would leave.

Kendra turned only her head toward Daniel as he came to a halt beside the desk.

“We have to talk, Kendra.”

“I’m working. It will have to wait. Tomorrow afternoon–”

“Now. Outside.”

“I can’t leave in the middle of work, Daniel. And I don’t appreciate this Neanderthal act. If you’ve got something to say to me, say it here or wait until tomorrow afternoon.”

“This isn’t the place–”

“Then wait–”

“I’m not waiting, dammit.” He didn’t raise his voice, but his vehemence drew stares from Margo, taking classified ads, and the delivery guy who had stopped in for his check. “Why the hell does it say father unknown on Matthew’s birth certificate?”

An odd prickling in her cheeks and throat might have been the blood draining from her face, but cold calm followed. Without a word, she rose and headed to the small back room employees used for breaks. She had no doubts about Daniel following.

Grateful to find the room empty, she closed the door and faced him.

“How do you know what’s on Matthew’s birth certificate?”

“I saw the copy at the co-op, the one in Fran’s files.”

“She shouldn’t have shown you that. Even if she thinks–”

His flat words cut across hers. “She didn’t show it to me.”

“Ah, yes,” she said with some bite, “I forgot your skills.”

“Right,” he sneered, “when in doubt I revert to the thieving, scheming street kid the Delligattis picked up out of the gutter.”

“That wasn’t–” But she saw it wouldn’t matter to him right now that she’d meant his government training and experiences at subterfuge as Taumaturgio, not his childhood.

She sat in the chair nearest the door, while he remained standing, so tense he seemed coiled.

“What would you have suggested I put on the birth certificate when Matthew was born? Paulo Ayudor? That would have been a lie, since I knew by then he didn’t exist. Father unknown was the absolute truth.”

Before he pivoted away, she glimpsed a raw pain she’d never seen on his face. Even when he’d spoken of his terrible childhood, the pain had

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