"We're almost there." Ken glanced at her. He knew she was struggling. "It's just a couple of blocks away."

She was relieved when they started moving again. Ken drove into the parking lot of the medical building and groaned when he spotted a woman standing near the entrance.

"There's a snitch in your doctor's office," he said grimly as he took the keys out of the ignition. "Don't get out."

He came around to her side of the car, his eye on the woman standing at the office door.

"Come on." He opened the car door, taking her arm as she stepped out. "Stay close."

The woman approached them. She was older than Corinne had first thought. Her blond hair was bra.s.sy, and thick makeup covered acne scars.

"Back off, Liz," Ken said. Apparently she was a colleague. She ignored his direction.

"Corinne," she said, walking toward her, notepad at the ready, "what are you here for? Is it for a DNA test?"

"Don't answer her," Ken said. He walked so quickly that her own legs, wooden and suddenly too long for her body, nearly tripped her. "We have no comment," Ken said. He pushed open the door and guided Corinne into the foyer. "Don't even think about it," he said to the reporter as she started to follow them in. This time she listened, and Corinne was relieved when the door closed safely behind her.

No one mentioned why she was there. She didn't even see the doctor, only a nurse who had the good sense to pretend taking a sample of cells from the inside of Corinne's cheek was an everyday event. Corinne was grateful for her matter-of-fact demeanor.

"How long 'til we get the results?" Ken asked, when the nurse had finished.

"About a week," she said.

And then what? Corinne wondered as the nurse wrote her name on the plastic container. Who would she be then?

Chapter Fifty-Eight.

The caller ID display showed a Virginia Virginia number, which usually meant that Dru was calling from her cell, so Corinne didn't hesitate to answer the phone. number, which usually meant that Dru was calling from her cell, so Corinne didn't hesitate to answer the phone.

"Hi, Dru," she said.

Silence greeted her.

"Dru?"

"I'm trying to reach Corinne Elliott." The voice was deep. Masculine. Mature.

She held her breath. Something told her this wasn't a reporter on the line. "This is Corinne," she said.

"Corinne, this is Irving Russell."

"Oh," she said. "h.e.l.lo." she said. "h.e.l.lo."

"I received the report from the DNA test this afternoon. It shows that you're definitely my daughter."

Had his voice caught on that word?

"I'm so...thrilled," he said. "I'm overjoyed that you're alive, Corinne. I'd given up all hope."

She closed her eyes. She'd been waiting for this call and now was unsure what to say. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Are you there?" he asked.

"I'm here," she said. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm in shock. It suddenly makes everything my mother said so real."

"The woman you thought thought was your mother," he corrected. was your mother," he corrected.

"Yes." I hate her, I hate her, she wanted to add. She felt the hatred well up in her again. she wanted to add. She felt the hatred well up in her again.

"I'm sorry you never got to know your real mother," Irving Russell said.

"Me, too." She felt like crying. Finally, here was someone who had known her mother well. "I want to know everything about her," she said.

"Of course." There was a smile in his voice. "Vivian-that's your sister-and I want to invite you up to Charlottesville for the weekend. We have more room than you could imagine. You can bring your fiance, of course." She wondered how he knew about Ken, but she guessed the world knew everything about her by now.

Even with Ken at her side, though, she didn't think she could make the drive to Charlottesville. She felt fragile these days. She was to return to work the following week and had the feeling she'd be taking the back roads once again. "I um...I don't travel very well," she said.

"Are you ill?"

"No. I just...it's a silly phobia."

He was silent and she had the feeling he was a man who had never been afraid of anything in his life.

"We'll come to you, then," he said. "I don't mean we'll stay with you," he added quickly. "But we'll drive to Raleigh Sat.u.r.day and spend the day with you, if that's all right. Then drive back in the evening. How's that?"

"That would be good," she said. "If you give me your e-mail address, I'll send you directions."

He gave her the information, and she wrote it down with trembling fingers, knowing that once again, her life was about to change. This time, it would be for the better.

Chapter Fifty-Nine.

A Lexus pulled into the driveway at noon on Sat.u.r.day, and Corinne was glad that the reporters were no longer staking out her neighborhood. She'd prepared chicken salad-the fancy chicken salad her mother had long ago taught her to make for company-along with croissants and fruit. She wouldn't be able to eat any of it, though; her stomach filled with knots as she watched Irving Russell and his daughter get out of the car and head toward the front door. Lexus pulled into the driveway at noon on Sat.u.r.day, and Corinne was glad that the reporters were no longer staking out her neighborhood. She'd prepared chicken salad-the fancy chicken salad her mother had long ago taught her to make for company-along with croissants and fruit. She wouldn't be able to eat any of it, though; her stomach filled with knots as she watched Irving Russell and his daughter get out of the car and head toward the front door.

"Are you all right, Cor?" Ken asked, his hand on her back. "Do you want me to get the door?"

She shook her head, waiting for the bell to ring. She suddenly wished Ken were not with her. This moment felt too private to share, even with him. Despite how kind he had been recently, her feelings for him had shifted since the revelation about his divorce, or rather, his lack of divorce. She couldn't help it; he was not the person she'd thought he was.

The Russells knocked instead of ringing the bell. She opened the door and faced a woman who looked so much like herself that she felt light-headed at the sight of her.

"Oh, my G.o.d," Vivian said. She stepped inside and pulled Corinne into an embrace, holding her close, her shoulders heaving slightly. Corinne felt love pour into her from the woman, a love so real and pure that it could be mistaken for nothing else. Her own eyes filled with tears.

"It's okay," she said, patting Vivian's back, but she didn't want to let go, either.

"I'm Ken Carmichael, President Russell," she heard Ken say.

"Call me Russ," Irving Russell said.

She and Vivian drew apart as the two men shook hands. Then she looked into the face of the man who was her father. His eyes were dry, but reddened from days of uncertainty and hope and disbelief.

"You are so much like her," he said softly. Resting his hand on her shoulder, he leaned over to kiss her cheek, an awkward gesture. For a moment, no one said a word. Then he smiled. "I'm overwhelmed," he said, as he had on the phone.

"He is," Vivian agreed. "Dad's never at a loss for words."

"Well, it's understandable," Ken said. "Come in and have a seat. We've got iced tea or soda or wine."

They moved into the living room, and Vivian sat close to Corinne on the sofa and took her hand. It was a gesture both odd and welcome, and Corinne felt as though her heart was beating in sync with her sister's. Their palms were pressed together, and she couldn't tell if it was her pulse she felt beneath her fingers or Vivian's.

Russ smiled, tears welling in his eyes as he studied his two daughters. "Where do we begin?" he asked.

"We want to know all about you," Vivian said. "What your life's been like. Though," she glanced at her father, "I think we're a little afraid to hear about it. To hear everything you've been through when you should have been with us."

Everything she'd been through? She shrugged. "It was actually a pretty normal life," she said.

Ken shook his head. "I wouldn't call it that," he said. "Her parents are...they're nice people. Her father-at least the man she's always thought of as her father-"

"Jack Elliott," Russ said. "He's a fine professor, from all reports. I don't think he knew."

"He was deceived by her mother," Ken said. "Just like the rest of us."

"It...distresses me beyond words that you had to spend your life with a kidnapper," Russ said. "And she says she didn't kill Genevieve, but I don't think we'll ever know that for sure. She kept you, so it looks to me like she wanted a baby. I've been reading about women who long for a baby. They find a pregnant woman and cut the baby out of them."

Corinne was horrified by the thought. "Oh, I really don't think so," she said. "My mother isn't that sort of person. And she was only sixteen."

"How do you know what sort of person she was, Cor?" Ken asked. "Would you ever have guessed she could be involved in a mess like this to begin with? I think she was mentally ill back then. Who knows what she was capable of?"

"If she hadn't wanted you desperately, she could have found a way to get you to us," Vivian said. "Where you belonged. Where you still belong."

Vivian's eyes filled with tears again, and Corinne wondered if it could be true. Eve had stolen her, that much was known. Could she have intentionally killed her mother in order to take her? It was unthinkable.

"Well, I'll make sure she'll pay, one way or another," Russ said. "I can't believe the university's had her on staff-as a counselor, no less-for all these years."

I think she was good at it, Corinne wanted to say, but she had the feeling Ken would disagree with her again and she didn't want to hear it. You could be lousy at raising your own kids and still be great at helping others find their way. Corinne wanted to say, but she had the feeling Ken would disagree with her again and she didn't want to hear it. You could be lousy at raising your own kids and still be great at helping others find their way.

"Listen, Corinne." Russ nodded to the briefcase at his side. "Do you want to see pictures?"

"Pictures?"

"Of Mom," Vivian said. "You won't believe how much you look like her. We both do."

"Yes," she said. "I tried to find pictures on the Internet, but could only find the one that's been on the news." she said. "I tried to find pictures on the Internet, but could only find the one that's been on the news."

"You poor girl," Russ said, lifting the briefcase to his lap. "Reduced to finding pictures of your mother on the Internet. We should have gotten in touch sooner," he said, looking at Vivian, who nodded. "We needed to be sure, though. If Eve Elliott could lie about one thing, she could lie about a lot of things. I hope you understand why we didn't get in touch right away."

She opened her mouth to say she understood, but Ken beat her to it.

"Of course she does," he said.

Russell pulled a large, fat envelope from the briefcase and walked across the room to give it to her, his hand trembling. He touched her arm before pulling away, and she had the feeling he wanted to embrace her, to hold on to her forever. She smiled at him.

Vivian took the envelope from Corinne's hand. "Don't overwhelm her, Dad," she said. She pulled the messy stack of photographs out of the envelope and handed one to Corinne, leaning over to look at it with her. "This is a picture of Mom and Dad on their honeymoon," she said.

The picture had a yellow cast to it, but the redheaded woman was a combination of Vivian and herself. "You definitely got her hair," Vivian said. "Mine's more like Dad's."

"Like Dad's used to be." Russell offered a weak smile as he ran his hand over his thinning, graying hair.

"I never looked like anyone in my family," Corinne said in a near whisper. "Not even a little."

"And that was a good thing," Ken said with a laugh.

"Ken," she said. "That's mean." she said. "That's mean."

"You don't sound like a fan of the Elliotts," Russ said.

"Well, Jack is a nice guy," Ken said. "He can be kind of a buffoon. The perennial actor. And Dru is nice. Dru's really nice."

"Dru is your...sister?" Vivian asked.

Corinne nodded. "I thought she was my half sister, but now I realize we're not related at all," she said with some sadness. "She's great, though."

"Eve, on the other hand..." Ken looked at Corinne. "I don't know how much to say."

"Ken's never really liked my mother," she admitted.

"I had an instinct about her," Ken said. "And...well, you know how Corinne said she couldn't drive up to Charlottesville?"

Russ nodded.

"She's got a whole slew of fears. Some she's overcome and she's working on the rest of them. But I blame her mother for them."

"She was overprotective," Corinne said. "Pathologically overprotective. She made me afraid of the world. I'm much better than I used to be, though." She was worried she was sounding pathetic.

"At least she didn't neglect you," Vivian said. "That's what we were afraid of-that she was an incompetent mother."

"There are all kinds of incompetence," Ken said.

"You're a teacher, right?" Russ asked.