The six-hour drive becomes a one-hour flight thanks to Augustus's G650. Adrian and I take a cab to the Western Psychiatric Institute after we land in Pittsburgh. Andrea is not the same as she was when I left her. They have her permanently confined to her room for her own safety.

"Did you come here often?" Adrian asks.

"At first, yes. Even though I knew she was crazy, she was still my mother." I reply.

Adrian and I wait for one of the nurses to come tell us if we can go see her. "Ms. Whitmore?" The nurse finally returns.

"Yes." I answer.

"I'm so sorry, but your mother is not in the best form today. She is more or less catatonic. Even if we did allow you to see her, I don't think you would find it very meaningful. She is no longer speaking at all." My shoulders fall in disappointment.

"Perhaps you could allow us to see her anyway." Adrian says. "The presence of a loving daughter might have a positive effect." He takes the nurse's hand and slips her a hundred dollar bill. "Don't you agree?"

The nurse looks around the room and smiles at Adrian. "Would thirty minutes be enough?" She asks.

"That would be lovely." Adrian replies.

The nurse leads us to Andrea's room, and I mouth the word "smooth" to Adrian. Andrea sits on the bed, despondent but not violent. The nurse leaves the three of us alone, and Adrian closes the curtain on the door window.

"Andrea? It's me again, Scarlett." I stare at her intently, but her eyes never meet mine. "This is my boyfriend, Adrian. He may be able to help you." At least, she's not calling me a demon. I allow Adrian to do what he came here for while I stand guard by the door.

Adrian takes both her hands in his. He closes his eyes and focuses on whatever damage might exist. Finding a sickness in a person's soul must be vastly more difficult than finding a broken bone or an open wound.

The white light appears. A few minutes go by, and there is no change. I am about to give up on the idea when Adrian begins to grunt. His breathing becomes more rapid, and sweat begins to pour down his brow. It is clear that this is taking a toll on him.

"Adrian..." I begin to speak, but he ignores me. The light grows stronger, and Adrian's physical state becomes dire. At any moment, I expect to see his nose starting to bleed or his skin turning white. "Adrian, if this is draining you too much, you should stop."

He doesn't listen or even speak. He only keeps struggling. His clothes are drenched, and his eyes are closed so tightly as though he is being whipped. "Adrian! Stop this! I don't want you to heal her if it means hurting you!"

And that's when it happens. Andrea and Adrian both suddenly gasp for air, and the light disappears. Adrian falls to the floor, weak to the point of death. I rush to his side and kneel down beside him. "Adrian, are you ok?"

He blinks a few times, and his breathing starts to return to normal. "I... I'll live, yes. Your mother?"

I turn my attention to Andrea. She looks as though she just woke up. She is holding her head in her hands as if she is suffering from a migraine. "Andrea? Mom?"

"Scarlett?" She speaks. She called me Scarlett. "What just happened?"

Merciful Mary! I throw my arms around Andrea, my mother, and she slowly does the same to me. I don't even bother to contain my tears. After all these years, I deserve the right to cry however I like! "Mom!" I shout. "How do you feel?"

She looks around the room, still confused. Immediately, I can tell that she is not the same anymore. Her skin is flush and healthy. Even her hair appears less grey. And her face is so much livelier. "I feel... good. I feel normal." I pull back to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry, I'm very confused. Where are we?"

"We're in the hospital. You've been sick for a long time. But you're better now!"

She becomes noticeably more alert and more lucid. "You're Scarlett. How do I know your name?"

"Because I'm your daughter!" I hug her again, and this time, she doesn't hesitate to return the embrace. "And I love you!"

Adrian rises off the ground and sits on the nearby stool. He is still exhausted, but he is slowly regaining his strength. His cell phone rings. "Uh, sorry. I need to take this. I'll leave you two alone for a moment." He takes the call and leaves. I wanted to thank him, but for now, I turn my eyes to my mother.

"What just happened?" She asks.

"Mom, what is the last thing you remember?"

"I remember... I remember everything. I've been living in this place ever since that day when... oh my god. Scarlett, I am so sorry! I don't know what I was thinking!"

"It's ok, mom. It's in the past. And you weren't yourself." I sit on the bed next to Andrea. "But you are now. And I have questions I need to ask you."

"What do you want to know?"

"Why did you give me up for adoption?"

It must be painful to reopen these wounds right after they've been healed, but I don't have a choice. I need answers, and Andrea reluctantly obliges. "I was nineteen years old, Scarlett. I was a call girl, and I definitely wasn't ready to have a kid. I thought I was doing you a favour. The people who adopted you, were they good people?"

"Yes. John and Sophie were great parents. But did you love me?"

A tear slowly emerges in Andrea's eye. "Scarlett, I loved you more than I loved myself. Even given the circumstances, I didn't care who your father was; I still loved you. At some point though, the pain of what happened consumed me. I couldn't think about anything except what your father did to me."

"Who was my father? Do you know for certain?"

"I think so. I was on birth control the entire time I was working, and all the clients had to use protection. But there was one man who was into some really weird stuff. I realized he was a whack job, and I cried to my driver to help me. But the client killed him! He did it in the weirdest way too. All he did was put his hand on Martin's head, and Martin fell to the ground; his face was frozen! Then the client, he..."

"You don't have to tell me that part." I scowl in disgust. "I can use my imagination. What was his name?"

"We never used real names in that business. But he was probably in his late thirties and had a lot of grey hair."

"Did he have an English accent?"

Andrea's eyes burst open in discernment. "Yes. Yes, he did." William Ashcroft, you piece of shit! "Scarlett, who was that man who came with you? Did you say he's your boyfriend?"

I smile with uncontained joy. "Yes, his name is Adrian. He's the best man I've ever known."

Andrea smiles with me. "I'm happy for you... daughter."

Adrian re-enters the room, and he appears rejuvenated. "Hello, Miss..."

"Clement. But please, you can definitely call me Andrea." Adrian nods and takes a seat. "How did you do that?"

"It's complicated. And it must remain that way for now. Just think of this as a miracle. After the doctors have seen you improve, you should be discharged eventually. You were found not guilty by reason of insanity, so without the insanity, you should be a free woman."

Andrea holds a hand to her chest and beams at Adrian with heartfelt gratitude. "I cannot thank you enough! Please, take good care of Scarlett."

"I fully intend to." He smiles at me. "Come, Scarlett. Our thirty minutes is up." I look at my mother one more time, and a new kind of hope blossoms inside me. We leave her room, and Adrian begins to speak to me. "Scarlett, I just got some news about..."

"I love you," I interrupt him. Our eyes share all our unspoken feelings in one look. I embrace him with the same intensity I did my mother, and I kiss him more passionately than I've ever kissed anyone. The patients and staff can stare all they like. With all the things in our lives that we have to keep secret, the fact that I love him is the one thing that I refuse to keep hidden. After I finally have my fill of him, I repeat, "I love you."

I hold his face in my hands, and he wraps his arms around my waist. "I love you too." He professes. He gives me that captivating Adrian smile that makes my heart skip a beat before his lips meet mine once more. "More than I've ever loved anyone, I love you, Scarlett." I stand in his embrace; my gaze never leaves his. I listen to the beating of his strong heart – his strong, noble heart. As I do, my own heart swells with indescribable gratitude for his benevolent gift and the equally benevolent soul that wields it.

"What were you saying before I so rudely interrupted you?" I giggle.

"We have the test results back from the DNA lab."

"And?" I ask.

"It's confirmed what we already knew." He answers. "William Ashcroft is your biological father."