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her. Tell me I did the right thing.”

“From what I can tell, she’s had a normal childhood. She’s got an older brother and a little sister—both adopted. She’s a freshman in college now, studying psychology.”

Shannon smiled. “Really?”

Jackson nodded as he scrolled through the report. “Wow. She looks just like you. Do you want to see?”

“I was always so afraid she’d look like one of the men, and then I’d know who he was, and that was something I couldn’t deal with.”

“All I see is you.”

“You’re biased,” she said, holding out her hand. “I want to see.” She took the cell, and it was like staring at herself in a mirror. “Oh, my. She even has bangs.” Shannon covered her mouth. “She looks happy.”

“Katie said she is.”

“I don’t want to intrude on her life.” Shannon handed Jackson the phone. “I don’t need to know her.”

“What if she needs to know you?”

“What about your rule?”

Jackson laughed. “I think I’ve learned that’s a stupid rule. Put your name in the registry and just remember that if she doesn’t ever come looking, you loved her enough to give her better than what you had.”

“You’re right. I should give her that opportunity, if she wants it.”

“That’s my girl,” Jackson said. “Now, I have a hard question for you.”

“Oh. Because nothing about the last few days has been hard.”

“How do you feel about having more children?”

She cocked her head. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“I swore after Jasmine and I divorced that marriage and kids were off the table. But I’m starting to think differently. I know we’ve barely started being a couple, but I want to know where you stand on the subject.”

Shannon pressed her hand over her stomach. She hadn’t wanted to even think about doing that to her body again. During her pregnancy, she’d felt alone and lost. Even worse while she gave birth and for years after. She felt empty and lonely. Now, being with Jackson made her wonder if family might be something she could do. “I think it’s something I’m open to in the future.”

“Cool. Now, how about you make more room on this sofa, and we watch a movie? Annette brought over a dozen.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He snuggled in behind her, holding her close to his chest and kissing her neck.

She belonged in his arms, and it would be forever where she remained.

No longer was she a hostage to her family’s dark legacy.

Epilogue Three years later…

“Sweetheart, relax.”

Shannon shook out her hands and paced. “Easy for you to say. Your daughter didn’t just call you out of the blue and ask to meet you.”

Jackson patted Max’s back as the four-month-old fell asleep in his father’s arms. “It’s going to be fine.”

“What if something is wrong? Like she has some horrible disease or something.”

Jackson arched a brow. “You really need to stop thinking the worst when it comes to Erica.”

Erica Gladstone.

That was her daughter’s name, and she was twenty-two years old now—a grown adult.

Shannon glanced at her watch. They had agreed to meet in the park ten minutes ago. “Maybe she changed—”

“Shannon?” a female voice said.

“Yes.” Shannon turned and came face-to-face with a young woman who looked very much like her, though she was about an inch taller, and her hair was a little darker.

“Hi. I’m…um…Erica.”

“Oh. Well. Hi.” Shannon fought the tears stinging her eyes. “This is my husband, Jackson. And that’s our son, Max.”

Erica nodded, resting her hands on a small baby bump. “My husband is sitting in the car over there. I was going to have him walk over with me, but I didn’t know if that would be too much or not.”

“We’d love to meet him,” Jackson said as he bounced up and down. “Please. Have him come over.”

“Yes. I’m sure Jackson would love a guy to talk to.”

“How long have you been married?” Erica asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“Almost two years now,” Shannon said.

“Why don’t I take this little guy for a stroll? I can go grab your husband. What’s his name?”

“John. I’m sure he’d like that. He wasn’t sure if he should stay or go.”

“I’ll get John, and we’ll go grab some coffee or something. We’ll be right back.”

Shannon nodded. “Shall we sit?” She waved to a park bench. “I really don’t know how this works.”

“Me, either.” Erica laughed nervously. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“I’m glad you reached out.”

Erica took a seat, wiping a tear. “I have to be honest with you. When I found out I was pregnant and decided to dig into my adoption, I did a Google search when I got your name to see what I could find out on my own.”

“I see.” Shannon knew all too well what Erica had found. “I can only imagine what you saw on the internet. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.” Erica reached out and took Shannon’s hand. “I have to admit, when I first called the adoption agency, I didn’t think I wanted anything but my records. When I read the article about what those men did to you—my birth mother—I knew I had to find you. My parents, siblings, my husband, and even his parents all agreed.”

A guttural sob escaped Shannon’s lips.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to tell you, in person, how much it means to me that you loved me enough to give me this life and how I wish I could have loved you back.”

Tears dribbled down Shannon’s cheek. “That’s not what I expected to hear.”

“You’re a brave woman for what you did, and while I have loving parents who raised me, I’m hoping we can be friends. I want to find a way for you to be in my life. In my baby’s life.”

Shannon wiped her face. “I thought if you knew how you came into this world, you’d hate me.”

“I hate the man who did this to you. And I don’t ever want to know my birth father, but I want to know the woman who not

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