He walked out to the studio, noticing with a kind of removed curiosity that his feet were scraping the ground, that he couldn't lift them up and place them down the normal way. Just another sign that the end was near, he supposed.

He put his hand in the bottom drawer of the worktable, reached beneath a stack of worthless sketches, and got the handgun. Sad to say, but the day he'd bought this gun over at the pawnshop in Bowden, he'd been a vital man, still handsome, still able to get the ladies when the need arose. Now, he was just an old man, sick, and so very tired of all of it.

Virgil stuck the gun in his pants pocket and set out for Laurel Lane. At this pace, it was going to take a while.

By the time Aidan made it downstairs with the box, everyone except Matt had relocated to the living room. Matt was still eating.

Aidan put the carton in the middle of the floor and Kat moved closer. It was then that she noticed something for the first timethere was writing on the side of this box, in blue ink that had faded almost to he point of it being unreadable. She leaned in closely. /Open this box first/ was what it said.

Great. Kat crumpled to the rug. She was afraid. When she looked up, she saw everyone staring down at her with a combination of curiosity and pity.

Put down your fork and get out here, Matt! Nola called. This is a family thing we've got going here!

Still chewing, Matt sauntered up to the crowd.

You might want to make sure it's not ticking, he advised.

Give me your pocketknife, Riley said, not amused in the slightest with his brother. Riley then bent down and sliced the box open. We're all here, Kat. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it together. He kissed the top of her head.

Thank you. Kat's eyes darted to Cliff.

It's all going to be fine. You'll see, he said.

Madeline had denied Carrie's request to take a quick trip through the buffet. Of all the nerve! Cherry Hill was the only restaurant serving food today, and Madeline knew ityet she'd kicked Carrie out! That meant a stop at the McDonald's in Elkins on the way out of town, and she hated to throw up in public restrooms unless she absolutely had no choice.

She began to walk toward her car. The afternoon was bright and cheery.

She smelled food coming from /everywhere/ and her thoughts turned to that creamy, thick key lime pie filling, just the right combination of tart and sweet. She hated Madeline, but the woman sure could cook.

Out of nowhere, a blast of cold collided with Carrie's body, and she was chilled to the bone. /Probably from starvation/, she told herself. She pulled her coat tight. Then ever so slowly, her skin began to crawl, and something told her to be on alert.

I knew you'd come back to me.

The voice came from her right. She whipped her head around and froze.

The ghost of Virgil Cavanaugh lay in a pile of brown leaves in someone's yard. It glared at her through sickly pink-rimmed eyes, and an otherworldly smile was pasted on its face. Then it coughed. But ghosts didn't cough, did they?

Carrie's pulse tripped. This was exactly why she'd opted for a job in health-care policy instead of clinical work. Clinical work required her to touch everyone who came to her for help, no matter how frightening or dirty or wretched they were. Her mind spasmedshe'd taken the Hippocratic oath as a physician and this was a human being who needed her help, but, honestly, she wanted to bolt.

For a long moment, she stared at him.

Did you come to sit for me, darling? he asked.

I am going to call an ambulance, she said, getting out her cell phone.

Wait! Virgil tried to push himself up to a stand. Carrie waited to make sure he didn't fall, and was grateful that he'd managed on his own. I was just catching my breath. I'm going in right there. Virgil pointed a shaky finger toward the house behind him, a beautiful two-story bungalow that Carrie had often admired in her visits to Persuasion.

I've been invited to dinner in there. Would you mind helping me up the sidewalk?

A white envelope sat on top of what looked like a stack of photo albums. /For My Darling Daughter/ was written in shaky handwriting in the same blue ink. Kat picked it up, a million questions fighting to get attention in her head, the first one being, This is for me? She'd said it out loud.

It is, Cliff said.

How do you know my mother? Kat asked, and somewhere in the bottom of her gut, she knew the answer.

Look through everything. All your questions will be answered.

Kat picked up the first photo album and cracked open the plastic cover.

This couldn't be. The first page was filled with photos of Aidan as a baby. In fact, she recognized many of them. Either she or Phyllis had taken them. Kat was shocked and looked up to Aidan with a sense of helplessness.

What in the hell is going on? Aidan asked. He dropped to his knees next to Kat and she grabbed his leg.

Look through this one. She handed it to Aidan and picked up the nextAidan's kindergarten graduation, Kat in a sun hat in the backyard helping Phyllis with the roses, several Ocean City vacations…

She knew about me, Aidan said, whipping through the album in his hand.

Phyllis must have sent these to her.

Kat thought she would faint. She picked up the last album and started with the final page, crammed with photos of Aidan's lacrosse matches.

Kat began to sob. I don't understand, she wailed, looking up to Cliff.

What is all this shit? I don't get it! Phyllis knew my mom?

Cliff nodded gently. She sent pictures to Rita through the years, so Virgil would never know. You'll have all the time in the world to go through the albums, but you should probably read the letter. He caressed Kat's shoulder.

Kat tried to tear open the flap but ripped the entire envelope in her anxiety.

I'll do that for you, hon, Nola said.

Kat gladly handed it over, then accepted the three-page handwritten letter Nola handed back. Kat stared at it, her eyes swimming and her whole body shaking. Read it for me, please. She handed it back to Nola.

Aidan's arm went around Kat. He pulled her to her feet and took her to the sofa. He sat on one side of her and Riley sat on the other. She clutched at both of them as everyone found a place to sit. Jeff and Richard brought dining chairs into the living room for Cliff and Barbara. Nola propped herself on the arm of the love seat, directly in front of Kat.

Wait. I need a beer, Matt said. He was back in seconds, but Nola greeted him with a glare when he returned. She cleared her throat. ?My Dear Daughter,' Nola read aloud. You do want me to read aloud, right?

Kat nodded, so stunned she wasn't sure she'd hear a word of it. ?This letter is an apology and an explanation. I hope you read it in good health. ?I did some very stupid things in my life. First off, I did not tell you the truth when you were a child, and I suppose you've lived all this time knowing something was wrong, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Forgive me, Katharine. I was ignorant and so afraid, and now I'm going to be facing my maker soon and I don't have the strength to come see you in person. That's why I'm writing this down. I will give it to your aunt Rita to give you, once I'm gone.'

Nola looked up. You OK, hon?

Kat blinked. She turned to Riley, hoping he'd have the answer to that question.

Do you want to go on, Kat? he asked her.

She nodded.

Nola continued.?Your real father was a very nice young man from Cumberland, Maryland'

Wowholy shit! Nola shouted. Sorry, that part was mine.

Kat's eyes flew to Cliff. He smiled at her. Kat felt the strangest combination of rage and relief begin to churn inside her. ?I met him at the Randolph County Fair when I was a junior in high school. He was there with a group of students, and he came back often to see me. By my senior year I was pregnant with his child. Virgil Cavanaugh was older and smarter than me, a visiting lecturer at the college, and he married me even though I was pregnant with another man's baby. But I paid a high price. He never let me forget that he took me in when no one else would have me. He used it against me all of our marriage. For whatever reason, I was never able to give him his own child, and it enraged him. When you were four years old, Virgil caught me answering a phone call from your real father. That's when the hitting started. What was I supposed to do? Your real father was married with a family of his own and it wasn't true love between us, anyway. I had nowhere to go. No job. No place to live. I decided to stay and take whatever Virgil dished out so that you'd have a home.'