No time for typos. Written in 20 minutes.

By the time Jason arrived with the clean up crew, he found Elizabeth standing over Ric’s body. Blood was dribbling out of Ric’s mouth, and his eyes were still open, the film of death clouding them.

Elizabeth met his eyes when she came through the door. “Where’s Lily?” She tucked the gun she’d still been holding back in her purse holster, then strode over to him. “Is she okay? Where—”

“With Steven across the hall.” Jason took her by the shoulder as a few men came in and started to wrap Ric in the plastic tarp. He searched her eyes, then looked up and down—not a mark on her, a hair out of place—

He pressed his lips together, looked at Ric’s body, then back at Elizabeth. “That’s why you wanted to meet him alone,” Jason said, exhaling. “You were planning this.”

“He was never going to stop,” she murmured. She also looked back at her ex-husband, at the man who had never, ever accepted her right to say no, to walk away, and build a new life.

“I never—I would have done this—” His throat was tight. “I didn’t want this for you—”

“This was my battle to fight. Not yours. He came after you because of me.” Her voice trembled. “He stole our daughter because of me. I needed to finish it. I need to see her—she’s okay? You said she’s okay?”

“She is.” Jason put an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the penthouse, away from Ric Lansing for the last time. “She’s—she’s been called Isla this last year.” He stopped her before they went inside. “She’s in perfect health, but she doesn’t know us.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, scrubbed her hands over her face. “Isla,” she repeated. “She’s—she’s not even a year old. We—we could—we could go back to—”

But now it felt wrong. Lily had been the name they’d chosen together for their little girl, their dream, for their future. She’d wanted to honor Jason’s grandmother, Lila—

This little girl didn’t know them.

“We could,” Jason said slowly. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Let’s just go inside and take it step by step.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, twisted the knob, then opened the door. Inside, her brother was sitting on the sofa, the baby in his lap. She was smiling at him, a stuffed dog in her hands, an ear in her mouth.

The baby turned at the sound. She smiled. Elizabeth choked back a sob. It was her little girl, the little face she’d seen in the photograph—older now, the hint of fuzzy blond hair a little longer now—curling around her ears. She had her daddy’s sunny blonde hair, his blue eyes—

“She looks like you,” Jason told her. Elizabeth blinked, then laughed. “What?” he asked, his eyes crinkling with confusion.

“I was just thinking that she looked like you—your coloring—”

“She has your face.” Jason walked over and without a word, Steven handed the baby to him. “Hey, Isla,” Jason said softly, bouncing her slightly. “Remember me?”

The baby ducked her head, pressing it against Jason’s chest, then smiling at him. She babbled something, waved the stuffed dog.

“That’s right, that’s from me,” he murmured. Elizabeth recognized it now — he’d given it to her the day they’d learned she was pregnant. Baby’s first toy.

It had been sitting in the nursery for over a year, waiting for their daughter.

“This is Mommy,” Jason told her. The baby crinkled her eyes, shook her head. “I know, you have another Mommy—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, her heart aching. Oh, God—it would be so easy for their daughter to adjust to Jason—she’d never had a father—no other person to replace—but she already had a mother.

“This is also your mommy,” Jason told her. He walked over to Elizabeth. “This is Elizabeth.”

“Hi, baby.” Elizabeth reached out, touched her skin. Oh, God, she was real. She was really—she was here. This wasn’t another waking nightmare. “Hi.”

She babbled, smiled at Elizabeth, then tucked her head against Jason to give Elizabeth the same smile she’d given Jason a moment ago.

“Your name, it’s—” Elizabeth swallowed. “You’re Isla.”

Something that sounded like yes emerged from the babble as Isla lifted her head, waved the dog ear at her.

“Can I give you a hug?” she asked. “I’d like—I’d like to hug you.”

“Dog,” Isla said with a nod. She held out her arms, and Jason transferred her into Elizabeth’s embrace.

And Elizabeth held her daughter for the first time. She held her tight, cupping the back of her head, pressing her cheek to her daughter’s. It didn’t matter what her name was—didn’t matter that today, Isla didn’t really know who she was.

She was holding her little girl.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at Jason. “Thank you. For bringing her home.” His eyes were red, and she could see the tears clinging to his lower lashes as he nodded. He smoothed his hand down Isla’s back. Their first time standing together as a family.

—

A few hours later, they put Isla down for her first night in the nursery. Elizabeth had rocked her to sleep in the rocking chair, just as she’d dreamed for so long, Jason leaning against the door frame.

As Isla’s beautiful blue eyes closed, Elizabeth looked up at Jason. “We’ll have to take turns putting her to sleep,” she told him. “We have so much time to make up for.”

He nodded, then hesitated. “I never should have left six months ago,” Jason told her. “I never dreamed—I never thought she was—I wouldn’t have—”

“I know. Neither of us dreamed this might be possible.” Elizabeth bit her lip, letting her finger drift down Isla’s soft cheek. “It would be easy to hold on to the anger, to the bitterness. To the way I’ve felt for six months. The divorce is supposed to be final in a few weeks.”

She met Jason’s eyes again. “I’m not letting Ric steal more time from me. I’ll call Justus in the morning and withdraw the petition. We deserve—we deserve a chance to be a family.”

Jason walked over, then knelt beside the chair to kiss Isla first—her eyes crinkled slightly, but stayed closed. “I love you,” he told her.

“I love you, too.”

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