"Do you like shopping?" Camilla asked her.

"I love shopping," Amy confessed.

Camilla's laugh filled the air again. "Then you inherited that from me! Let's go to Rodeo Drive."

"Rodeo Drive?" Amy echoed in awe. She knew about the famous, expensive area in Beverly Hills, but she'd never shopped there.

It turned out that Camilla was very much at home on Rodeo Drive. She knew every store, and in some of the stores, the people knew her. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Jaleski," a salesperson would say.

"h.e.l.lo!" Camilla would call out gaily. "This is my daughter, Laura."

The salesperson always looked a little surprised, and he or she would say something like "I didn't know you had a daughter!" Then Amy-Laura would be treated very nicely, much better than any salesperson at the mall ever treated her.

It wasn't long before Amy realized she could have anything she wanted. Every time she admired something - a skirt, a necklace, a pair of shoes - Camilla asked her if she wanted it. And Amy was tempted.

But something made her say, "No, thank you," over and over again. Whenever Nancy offered to buy her something she liked, she always accepted it. But she couldn't accept gifts from strangers. Of course, Camilla wasn't a stranger, but Amy wasn't ready to think of her as her mother. Not yet.

When they pa.s.sed a hair salon, Amy paused to gaze at the pictures in the window. She caught sight of her reflection and saw that her orange hair looked glaringly bright.

"Do you really think my hair is nice like this?" she asked Camilla.

"Absolutely," Camilla a.s.sured her. "It's marvelous. But if you want to change the color, you can. Or you can have a haircut, if you like."

A haircut! This she might actually accept.

But when they went into the salon, there were no appointments available for that afternoon. "The next available appointment is on Monday at ten-thirty," the receptionist told Camilla.

"There are other salons," Camilla said, but Amy didn't see any as they proceeded down Rodeo Drive. She didn't see any ear-piercing places either, but she had a pretty good feeling that if she brought the subject up, Camilla would be willing to take her somewhere to have it done. But she hesitated to broach the subject. Again, she didn't feel comfortable asking for things. Not yet.

Amy wondered if Nancy had come home from the university by now, if she'd found Amy's note. "What time is it?" she asked Camilla.

Camilla looked at her watch. "One-thirty. Why?"

"No reason," Amy said.

"Are you thinking about her?"

Amy was surprised. "My - Nancy?" How could Camilla have known? She thought about denying it, but Camilla was looking at her in such a kind, understanding way.

"I just hope she's not too worried," Amy confessed.

"You should call her," Camilla said. "Let her know you're okay."

Amy was amazed at how thoughtful Camilla was. And obviously, she had no fear that Nancy would try to take Amy away. But why should Camilla be afraid of Nancy, if Camilla was Amy's real mother?

"You can use my mobile phone at lunch," Camilla told her. "And speaking of lunch, you must be starving!"

"No, I'm not," Amy protested. "I just ate a ton of egg salad sandwiches, remember?" But Camilla ignored her protests and led her up some stairs to a lovely terrace restaurant. Obviously Camilla was a regular. The man at the entrance greeted her warmly by name and immediately led her and Amy to a table.

Once they were seated, Camilla reached into her purse and drew out her mobile phone. "Here," she said, handing the phone to Amy. "I'm going to the ladies' room."

She was even making sure Amy had privacy! It gave Amy confidence as she dialed her own - what used to be her own - phone number. When she had finished dialing, she hesitated before hitting the b.u.t.ton that would connect the call. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation. Nancy would be upset. But Amy hardened herself. Nancy had to have known the truth about Amy's parentage all along.

And there was one thing Amy knew for sure. Nancy wouldn't call the police and declare that Amy was a runaway.

In the past, even when Amy had been threatened and in real danger, Nancy had refused to call the police or any other authorities. She'd claimed they could be more dangerous than the organization. If legitimate agencies learned of Amy's existence, they could come up with legal reasons to take Amy away from Nancy.

But Amy had left Nancy of her own free will. And since she knew that a battalion of armed police officers weren't going to appear and drag her back, she had nothing to fear. She punched the connection b.u.t.ton.

She was so ready to talk, it was almost disappointing to hear a busy signal. She wondered whether Nancy was calling all over town, going crazy, trying to find out if anyone knew where she was. Well, Amy would have been more than happy to tell her. It was Nancy's own fault for not having call waiting.

Camilla returned to the table. "Everything okay?" she asked.

Amy nodded, and Camilla didn't pursue the matter. She wasn't nosy at all. Nancy, on the other hand, questioned Amy about everything, wanting to know every tiny little detail of her life.

Camilla picked up the menu. "Now, what shall we have?"

Amy looked at her own menu. It was huge and overwhelming. Camilla must have read her expression.

"Would you like me to order for both of us?" she asked.

"Yes, please," Amy said.

"Let's see," Camilla mused. "No smoked salmon, of course."

As Camilla studied the menu, Amy studied her. She wondered how long it would take before she could look at Camilla's face and automatically think Mother. A powerful sensation of pure wonderment came over her. How very odd and thrilling it was to think that this was a blood relation sitting across from her.

As a child, of course, Amy had a.s.sumed that Nancy was her natural mother, but it had never occurred to her to look for physical similarities. And after Nancy had presented her version of Amy's creation, Amy had known there wouldn't be any similarities. But now she looked at Camilla and tried to see something of herself.

It wasn't in their coloring. Camilla had blond hair and blue eyes. Camilla's nose was longer than hers, and her cheekbones were higher. But maybe Amy would grow into those features.

Camilla looked up. "What are you looking at?"

"You," Amy said.

Camilla smiled. "I hope you like what you see."

"I do," Amy replied promptly. "But I was just thinking . . . I don't look much like you, do I?"

The smile on Camilla's face seemed to fade slightly. "Lots of children don't look like their parents."

"And I guess the medication you took might have had an effect on my appearance," Amy mused.

Camilla returned her gaze to the menu.

"About that medication," Amy went on. "I know it was experimental, but it seems to me that it would have become very popular if it could make your baby stronger and - "

"Do you like lamb?" Camilla interrupted. "The lamb chops here are delicious."

Amy agreed to lamb chops, and Camilla gave their order to the waiter. Then she turned her full attention back to Amy.

"Oh, Laura, there's so much I want to know about you. What you like to eat, what you like to do, your hobbies, your favorite flower, your favorite color . . . Do you like pink? I'm crazy about pink."

"Pink's okay," Amy said. She wouldn't have called it her favorite color, but she could deal with it.

"We've got a lot of bonding to do," Camilla went on. "It won't be easy, establishing the kind of. relationship we should already have. Some people would probably suggest that we consult a psychologist for advice on getting along and becoming a family. But I don't like psychologists, do you?"

"I've never known any psychologists," Amy admitted.

"They think they know everything," Camilla told her. "Well, let me tell you, Laura, they're not as smart as they think they are."

Amy nodded uncertainly. She was still having trouble dealing with Laura.

The food came. Camilla was right about the lamb chops - they were delicious, and even though Amy wasn't famished she found herself wolfing them down happily. Camilla just picked at her salad, her bright eyes never leaving Amy's face.

"Tell me about your friends," Camilla said.

Now, that was a topic Amy could feel comfortable talking about. "My best friend, Tasha Morgan, lives right next door to me." She amended that. "Well, right next door to where I used to live."

"You'll miss her," Camilla said sympathetically.

Amy knew she would miss having easy access to her best friend, but she'd still be seeing her at school. That thought moved her to ask another question.

"How will I get to school every day?" she wondered aloud. "I can't walk to Parkside from here. Maybe there's a bus."

"Don't worry about that," Camilla told her. "Tell me more about your friends."

"Tasha's brother, Eric, is my boyfriend," Amy confided.

Something almost like a frown crossed Camilla's face. "Your boyfriend?"

"He's very nice," Amy a.s.sured her. "You'll like him."

"Boys," Camilla murmured. "They grow into men, you know."

Amy thought she was making a joke. "Yeah, I've heard about that."

But Camilla didn't smile. "You can't trust men, Amy. Believe me." She gave a short laugh. "I was married to one."

Amy visualized Dr. Jaleski. "Was he really that awful?" she asked. She still had a hard time accepting the idea of Dr. Jaleski as her father. And she had an even more difficult time picturing him as some sort of evil tyrant.

"He took you away from me," Camilla said simply. "I can never forget that." Her eyes filled up with tears, and the sight almost took Amy's breath away. This was her mother crying. This was the woman who had given birth to her, who had a natural love for her. A woman who had spent years in pain, searching for her beloved daughter. Everything went blurry, and Amy realized that she was crying too.

Camilla took some tissues from her purse and handed one to Amy. "Look at us, sobbing like babies," she said, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Thanks," Amy said, taking a tissue. "Thanks . . . Mom." It felt very weird, very foreign, using that word now, but she forced it out because she'd have to get used to it eventually. And it clearly made Camilla very, very happy. It produced a fresh onslaught of tears.

"We're going to be very happy, Laura," Camilla told her. She pushed the mobile phone across the table. "Would you like to call Tasha and Eric now?"

"Okay," Amy said, and she dialed the number. Tasha answered the phone.

"Hi," Amy said, "it's me."

"Amy!" Tasha gasped. "Where are you? Your mother's going crazy!"

"She's not my mother, Tasha," Amy said. "I'm with my mother."

"Ohhh, Amy," Tasha whispered. "Where?"

"In Beverly Hills, on Rodeo Drive," Amy began, but she stopped when she saw Camilla put a finger to her lips. She wasn't sure why she couldn't tell Tasha exactly where she was sitting at the moment. Camilla probably just didn't want any sort of confrontation.

"Don't tell Nancy, okay?" Amy said to Tasha. Camilla smiled at this and nodded in approval.

"I won't," Tasha said. "But she's really going nuts, Amy. She called here, and then she started asking me if I had any idea where you could be."

"What did you say?"

"I said I didn't know. I didn't tell her anything about Camilla."

Amy's heart filled with affection for her loyal best friend. "Thanks, Tasha."

"What's it like?" Tasha asked. "Finding your real mother . . ."

"It's . . . it's amazing," Amy said. "I don't know how else to describe it. I can't wait for you to meet her." As she said this, she smiled brightly at Camilla. But Camilla looked a little sad.

"This is so wonderful," Tasha moaned. "I hope Jeanine feels the same way you do. I think I found her natural mother."

"Really?"

"I found this adoption service on the Internet that matches people who are looking for their birth parents with parents looking for the children they put up for adoption. I put in all the details I have about Jeanine, and I got the name of a woman."

"Cool," Amy said, and as much as she disliked Jeanine, she hoped that her archenemy would know the happiness she herself was feeling right now.

Then, in the background on Tasha's end of the line, Amy heard the sound of a door slamming and a voice yelling.

"Hold on, Eric just got home and he's shouting about something," Tasha said to her, and then Amy heard her speaking to him. "Calm down, she's okay!" To Amy she said, "He just saw your mother, and - Yes, it's Amy, wait a second, okay?"

Amy wasn't surprised when Eric refused to wait. She could hear Tasha shriek as he wrestled the phone away from her.

"What's going on?" he demanded. "Where are you?" He sounded truly frantic.

"Everything's okay," Amy said soothingly. "More than okay. Stop yelling! Eric, I've found my mother. My real mother!"

She smiled at Camilla, but Camilla wasn't looking at her. She was asking the waiter for the check.

"Are you nuts?" Eric bellowed. "You're with that crazy lady right now?"

Amy stiffened. "She's not crazy, Eric."