“I’m cooking,” Libby announced as she slipped her apron over her head. “We were going to do a big night out, but I thought it might be nice to just hang around our house and eat a good meal.”

“I helped,” Jessica jumped in as the three men came in the door looking exhausted.

Mathew scoffed. “There is no way you cooked. I won’t believe it until I see it. Remember that time you made grilled cheese and we had to call the fire department?”

Jessica planted a kiss on his lips and then swatted at him. “I didn’t say I helped cook. I said I helped. The wine wasn’t going to open itself.”

“Or drink itself apparently,” James commented as he picked up a bottle of red with only a sip or two left in it.

“Everyone head to the dining room,” Libby said, ushering them in that direction. Aria had gotten the grand tour of the six-bedroom mansion James had bought as a gift for Libby. Somehow a space this large was made to feel cozy and welcoming. Something Jessica gave Libby all the credit for.

“Are there assigned seats?” Mathew asked, taking in the elegantly decorated dining room and artfully coordinated table setting. “What time does the queen arrive?”

“I wanted it to be special,” Libby said, threatening him with her spatula. “Are you sure you want to piss off a pregnant woman? We’re notoriously irrational.”

Mathew threw his arms up disarmingly and took a seat next to Jessica. When everyone else was seated they sat in silence as pots and pans clanked in the kitchen.

“Should we help her?” Monroe asked sheepishly.

“No,” Mathew, Jessica, and James shouted in unison.

James cleared his throat and laid his napkin over his lap. “She has it all under control. She’s been trying all sorts of new recipes, and she prefers if we all stay out of her way.”

“Got it,” Monroe said, taking a big swig of his wine.

“Emmitt should have something back for us any minute,” Mathew updated, trying to quell the awkwardness of the noise pouring from the kitchen.

“So soon?” Aria asked, stunned that could be possible. It had been only eight or nine hours since they’d all spoken this morning.

“I told him James was sure he couldn’t help us. He accepted the challenge and said he’d have it done by dinner tonight.” Mathew smirked victoriously.

“You men are so competitive,” Libby remarked as she carried a large platter of succulent beef to the table. “This is a pot roast with a red wine reduction, fingerling potatoes, and roasted carrots.”

“Wow,” Monroe said, eyeing the meal with excitement. “It actually looks good.”

Libby’s head snapped in his direction with a menacing look. “What were they telling you to expect? Burnt lasagna? That happened one time.”

“No,” Monroe said, waving his hands nervously. “I just meant—”

Mathew cut him off quickly. “Emmitt is sending some encrypted documents. He said he got it all.”

Aria dropped her fork down with a loud clank against the plate. “What does it say?”

“I’ll have to pull up my laptop and use my program with the decryption code. It’ll take a few minutes.”

“And my dinner will be ice cold,” Libby said, with a tiny pout. “But go ahead. It’s fine. It’s more important.”

“No,” Aria edged out reluctantly. “We should eat. You worked really hard on this.”

“Go get your computer, Mathew. But take your plate,” Libby said, with a little smile. “Just holler when you’re finished, and we’ll come see what you have.”

Like a bolt of lightning, Mathew darted from the table with his plate balanced in one hand.

Libby took her seat next to Aria and touched her shoulder gently. “It took a few hours to make this meal. You’ve been waiting a lifetime for what is in those documents. It’s important.”

Jessica took a heaping scoop of potatoes and looked curiously at Aria. “What are you hoping to find? Do you want to believe your mother had no choice? Or do you hope your father was a good man she was trying to hurt?”

Aria took a bite of the roast to buy some time. The answer changed minute to minute. There was no easy answer. As she swallowed she looked at Monroe. “I think I want my father to be a good man. My mother is a known commodity. She is who she is. We had some wonderful experiences together and some very painful ones. She was all over the place at times; the ups and the downs were a lot to deal with when I was a child. My mother was hard to love. It wasn’t impossible, but it was difficult. But my father could be kind. He could be easy. It would feel good to have someone like that.”

Monroe smiled warmly. “You had to inherit it from someone. I’m sure he’s a good man.”

The next few minutes were silent, the words replaced by delicious bites of Libby’s meal. Aria’s stomach was in knots, knowing the truth she’d wanted so long might be waiting for her a few rooms away.

“I have it,” Mathew said, coming into the room with his laptop in his hands. He sat at the table and Aria couldn’t read his expression. He looked stunned, yet saddened. “Emmitt pulled all the sealed testimony and sworn statements from the trial. It was a hearing to determine if anyone had assisted your mother when she left. It called her family and friends to testify under oath.”

“I never met any of her family,” Aria said somberly. “It was always just the two of us.”

Mathew nodded. “The testimony supports that. No one knew she was going to leave. No one knew where she was going. But more importantly, no one knew why she left.”

“Why is that important?” Jessica asked.

“As far as anyone knew there was no cause. She and Aria were not under any direst or imminent danger. Your mother’s friends testified she’d been acting paranoid and irrational. A drug dealer testified, letting the court know how much he’d been selling her and how long she’d been using. Your mother’s own parents spoke out in defense of your father. They stated that in high school their daughter had run away countless times and had once attempted suicide. She would invent stories about threats and danger.”

Monroe spoke tentatively. “Was there anyone speaking against her father?”

“Not one person,” Mathew explained. “His employer, his own parents, their mutual friends. Everyone came to his defense. By all accounts he was a good, hardworking man who had his daughter stolen from him. He was devastated.”

“I don’t see how they couldn’t find her,” Libby said, angrily. “That man was hurting; they’d proven he’d done nothing to make them run.”

Mathew looked at his computer and sighed. “Twenty years ago fathers had very little recourse. Divorce hearings, custody. They were not considered equal to the mother. In parental abductions most people, even agencies, assumed the dad must have been horrible if the mother was willing to run. During the divorce, it seems like your mother did a lot to smear his name. Until this hearing he didn’t have a chance to clear his name and get any agency support. By then they were long gone.”

“So,” Aria asked, staring at his hands, “he’s a good man?”

Mathew fidgeted some as he continued, “It seems like it. A forklift operator in Philly. Just a normal guy who loved you and wanted to find you.”

The silence was broken only by the ping of emails coming into Mathew’s laptop. It was proof to Aria that the world outside of this house hadn’t crashed into nothingness. Only her consciousness had.

“Now what?” James asked, the honest reaction of a man of action. “You want to meet him?”

“I do,” Aria said, swallowing hard. “I want to apologize to him.”

“Apologize?” Monroe asked, taking her hand in his. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Growing up I didn’t have any choice, but when I found out . . . I knew his name and I didn’t reach out. I prolonged his pain for years. I’m no better than she was.”

A clamor of voices rose to disagree with her, but she waved them off. “I can’t make that right, but I can stop this. I can fix it.”

Mathew began typing on his computer. “I’ll have Emmitt get us some contact information and an address.”

“I’d like to meet him in person,” Aria asserted. “I don’t think this is something you can explain over the phone. He probably wouldn’t believe me.”

James folded his hands and looked at Monroe. “The company jet is at your disposal. If you need to go to Philadelphia it’ll be your best bet. Any other resources we have, please use them.”

Aria wiped a stray tear from her cheek and leaned her head on to Monroe’s shoulder. “I can’t believe this. I’m going to meet my father. He wanted me this whole time.”

“James, get that bottle of champagne. We’ve been saving it for something special, and I can’t think of a better time than now. Let’s celebrate.”

He hopped to his feet and retrieved the bottle while Jessica grabbed the crystal flutes and passed them out. When the cork popped loudly Aria jumped and giggled nervously.

“Dessert,” Libby announced, dashing toward the kitchen. “I almost forgot.” In her hands was a lopsided, poorly decorated cake, ablaze with candles. “We never got to have cake for your birthday Mathew. I baked this for you.”

“It’s . . .” Mathew said, getting a good look at the cake. “It’s very homemade.”

“It was a bit of a rush job,” she admitted bashfully as they all began to loudly sing happy birthday. When he blew out the candles they showered him with slaps on the back and hugs.

There had been so many birthdays missed for Aria and her father. So much time had passed between them, and the questions were whirling in her mind. Monroe leaned in close and whispered through her hair.

“Having you as his daughter, getting you back, he’ll be the luckiest man in the world.”