The next two chapters will help bring all of this together. They will be posted a little later this morning. Thank you for your patience!
[Cordelia]"Well if you won't open it," Tilly takes the envelope from me. "I will."With a deft finger, she swipes open the package and carefully pours the contents onto the coffee table next to me. Inside is a note, a passport, a credit card, a copy of my birth certificate, and approximately 50,000 USD.The note is handwritten in a beautiful script, like something out of a forgotten time when people still wrote with quills. In long, fluid letters it read:__________________________Ms. Bryant,You neglected to collect your early present from the bank, so I thought it might be more convenient to have it delivered to your door. I hope you don't mind my forwardness in assuming you might need these materials as you start your new life. If you ever need help, please don't hesitate to reach out.In Fidelity,Magnus Fisher. ___________________________"So this is what was in the safe deposit box," Tilly picks up one of the stacks of cash and thumbs through it. "What is he helping you plan
[Cordelia]Tilly touches my shoulder. My mouth forms the words "Atlas is dead," but I can't hear the sound of my voice over the loud hum building in my ears as my blood pressure skyrockets and my vision blurs. The sound of Tilly calling Clark in the background feels like a low buzz of white noise. Placing my hands on the table, I take large, gasping breaths. How did this happen? They said he was in a coma. How can you have a heart attack in a coma?"Please don't be true, please don't be true, please don't be true." The universe would not be so cruel to bring us together only to tear us apart right as we finally find one another. Tilly looks in my direction as tears roll down her cheeks, "Cordy..." she steps forward, setting her phone down gently on the table as she collapses on the floor next to me, holding her arms open. I accept her silent offer and allow her to rock us both back and forth as we cry together. I don't hear Clark come in, but I do feel his familiar warmth as he and
That night, after burying Atlas and reading of his will, I flew to Vancouver with my mother, Cristiana. Although now I just call her mother, as over the last two months she has been a remarkable treasure, a best friend I always needed and didn't know I was missing. Once we were given the chance to know one another, we bonded instantly. With my help, she finalized her divorce from my father, David Bryant.I had a suspicion that he was behind a lot of Sydney's mischief, and with a little bit of digging, we were able to uncover evidence that he had been supplying her with money and other resources to break up me and Atlas. With my knowledge of the events and timing, we also found receipts that showed huge amounts of the aphrodisiac she had used to drug the wine ordered through David Bryant and shipped to her in California.At first, he protested, refusing to give her a divorce, knowing that after 30 years of marriage, she'd be entitled to half his wealth. Especially since they never sign
[Cordelia]Holding my breath, I stare at the package. A chill runs up my back as a feeling of deja vu washes over me. It's just like all the other packages before, only usually they aren't delivered directly to my work. I wonder what makes this one so special."You know what, Mother," My smile and tone a bit sharp, my body tight with anxiety as I look at the offerings left on my desk. "Why don't we meet up for lunch? We can discuss the designs then over food. Then we can look at it with fresh eyes and a full stomach." "Aren't you going to open it?" she looks at the package slyly as she stands and gathers the sketches scattered on my desk. "At least check to see if there is a note." "There isn't one," I don't even need to look to know this. This isn't the first package I've received. None of them have ever had a note. The packages began arriving two days after I first landed here in Vancouver. The first package contained a beautiful new sketchbook and a set of pens. At the time I a
[Cordelia]It is light, barely more than tape and paper.Carefully I peel back the simple brown paper to reveal a box with the logo of a local jeweler. I double-check for a card to see if this package is from someone else because my anonymous present sender has never sent me anything expensive.Inside the larger box is a smaller green velvet box. Inside is a silver locket on a long silver chain. It is an elegant piece, simple and warms to my touch as I pull it out of the box. Inside I find a small dried flower placed in front of a photo of the California coastline. It looks like wild mustard, a weed that flourishes along the California coast--A little touch of home. On the other side, there is room for a picture, and I know that as soon as Jasper is born, I will place his little face there. My finger feels the gentle edges of an engraving. Flipping the locket to the back side, I see a large swooping C and S intertwined. "Cordelia Steele," I whisper as I open the locket again. It is
[Cordelia] My doctor-midwife, Dr. Andrews, arrived in less than 10 minutes, ready with an emergency birthing kit in case things were further along than my assistant had reported. "Ms. Devaroux, I highly advise you give up working until after Jasper arrives," her face is stern but loving, her perfectly painted lips curved downward. "It was a false alarm this time, but if you aren't more careful with yourself, it might not be next time." "But I'm needed here," I insist. "I've put so much work into building this and I can't let it fall apart now." "If you don't shift your priorities," she scolds, her tone becoming cold with disappointment. "You aren't going to have any choice but to quit everything. You put yourself, and your child, at risk with your stubborn, selfish behavior." she seems a bit angry as she adds. "Consider this your warning call." My mood spirals downward as I consider her implications. Even though I say I'm working this hard to build a legacy for my son, am I rea
[Cordelia]Taking a deep breath, I reach forward and clasp the hand of my dear friend. "Henri," I smile sadly. "I can't marry you. In my heart, I'm still married to him," my hand absently presses the locket to my chest. "Will you allow me at least to try and change your mind?" He shifts into businessman mode and I'm reminded of Atlas. There is a lot about Henri that reminds me of Atlas. They look completely different--Henri has black hair, brown skin, and bright green eyes whereas Atlas is blonde and fair with grey eyes--but they behave so similarly. Neither wear their hearts on their sleeve, but keep many of their emotions close to their chest. They also tend to think of relationships as business transactions. "I'm not sure that would be fair for you," I reply honestly, trying to let him down gently. "Or to me.""Let me make you an offer, a compromise," his grin increases. "Let's wait for a while, become better friends, spend the next year getting to know one another, maybe occasion
[Cordelia]After that evening with Henri, I had a lot on my mind. Some might say too much because the very next day I had another attack like the one the day before. This time my doctor was livid and so was my mother. Outvoted, I've been stuck in confinement, waiting for my little guy to make his arrival. I did receive a bit of good news today that helped brighten my mood and gave me something to look forward to. Tilly will be flying up this evening with Clark to be nearby for the first month of Jasper's life, to help me cook and clean and rest. Now we're all just waiting for Mr. Steele to make his arrival. I feel I've been pretty patient with him, but it feels like I've been pregnant forever. Dr. Andrews says that most mothers feel like this the closer they get to their due date. "Most of you will do anything to get that baby out. Bumpy roads, spicy food, lots and lots of sex."I choke on my tea. "Seriously?""Yes," she nods enthusiastically. "A good orgasm is great for speeding alo
[Cordelia] Today is our 20th second anniversary. We've lost count of the first one, forgetting it entirely as a moment of sadness. Instead, we honor the day when we took our vows and meant them, 7 years later in Napa. Usually, we leave Los Angeles and take the week for just the two of us. Even after two decades, we haven't lost our hunger for one another and I look forward to our time away where we can just be two people together and in love. But this year, my husband is feeling a bit nostalgic. This is why I'm in the lobby of the Steele Hotel and Resort, recreating a memory I wish I could forget. When he sent me the cryptic text this afternoon, I confess I was more than a little bit confused. Why, of all places, would he want me to meet him there? At least this time I'm not wearing a hoodie with a dress tucked into a pair of loose sweats. And while my face is covered with large sunglasses, it's more to protect my identity and not draw too much attention. I am far too recogniza
[Clark] "Come on. Dad!" My daughters pull me along by my arms. I've never been able to deny them anything they wanted but tonight they are asking too much. "It's only a blind date!" "Girls," I admonish, "What have I said, I'm not ready to let someone new into my heart. Your mother was more than enough for me." Cassie stares up at me with her starlight eyes, as deep and black as her mother's, and doesn't relent. "You promised you'd let us have anything we want for our birthday. Grandma helped us pick her out. You have to try, Dad. For us!" "Grandma Suzanna or Grandma Jenny?" I grump, "Who do I need to send a thank you note." "Both!" the girls giggle. "You owe us, Dad," Cassie counters. Her red curls bounce as she stomps her foot. "Do you know how weird it is to look on a DATING AP for potential girlfriends for our father? It's so gross. You should be grateful" "Yeah," Maddie chimes in, swinging her hair over her shoulder as she twists her lips just like Tilly used to, her hand
[Jude]If the universe were fair, I wouldn't have lived to see today. If karma took her toll, I wouldn't be friends with Clark and Atlas Steele, our children growing up side by side. Once the shadow of Magnus was lifted from our shoulders, and Angelica and I were finally able to go about our lives the way we always should have been able to do, It became easier to make good with my life. Angelica and I were married shortly after Mathilda's funeral. It was a small ceremony on the family medical boat, just before the two of us set sail with our daughters, Melanie and Veronica. When the DNA showed that they were indeed my children, and NOT Magnus', that his experiment had never stuck, it was easy to adopt them. In their mind, Angelica is their mother. When they are old enough, we'll tell them the truth about Aunt Sydney, but for now, we are sparing them the burden of her insanity.And we give them love, all the love of a couple who has always wanted children of their own.Angelica, it tu
[Cordelia]15 hours later I place my feet back in LA for the first time in 6 months. We have been gone for so long that I had forgotten how loud it is, or how oppressively hot it can be in summer. Clark met us at the runway alone, the girls with their grandparents. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to drive you home. We could have sent a driver but," he explains, "I wanted to be the one to welcome you home." He does his best to smile, but as his melancholy grin drifts to how I hold on to my husband's hand, I can see how much this is costing him. "I'm glad it was you," I reach forward to give him a hug. "Thank you." Atlas, who has been receiving a slew of messages from Theo as soon as we landed, asks to be dropped off at the new Steele Industries building. "Looks like they need me," he apologizes, kissing my hand. "I'll make it up to you tonight," he whispers in my ear and I shiver in anticipation. "I'm going to hold you to that," I whisper discretely in his ear, trying to be mi
[Cordelia]The rest of that day went by in a blur. I insisted we rush back to the compound even though everyone had received the news that Tilly was gone. I couldn't believe it. My mind couldn't process the possibility of a world without Mathilda Madison. She wasn't just my best friend, she was my sister. So I couldn't let her go. Clark was distraught. He and Tilly took a while to find one another, and when they did finally make the right connection, they fell for one another hard. It was beautiful watching my two best friends fall in love--they were perfect for one another. But not all stories end with a happily ever after. That was a hard lesson for me to learn as well. I wanted nothing more than to watch Tilly raise her daughters. When we made it back an hour later, her body had already been collected. I had wanted to see her, to give it a chance to see if I could have brought her back: just one touch, one spark. I was convinced that I could have been the one to save her. The
[Sydney]Why can't they just let me die? It would be so easy, I'm already cut and bleeding. Why bother with the IVs and the monitors? It doesn't matter anymore. Did it ever matter?My entire existence has been a fraud. If my hands were free I'd count the ways on my fingertips all the ways I've been lied to and used.A madman altered my DNA and injected me into the wrong mother. I was raised believing I was special only to discover I was the offspring of my enemy. The man of my dreams was married to the daughter my mother was supposed to have, and I was just a cheap copy of the woman he once loved, my genetic twin, Angelica. Was this life ever really mine to begin with? Even now they aren't honoring my desire to die. "She needs more blood," the doctor announces over my head, her clear voice cutting through the din of the operating room chatter. "Her blood pressure has dropped to dangerous levels. We can't use the anesthesia. She'll need to be awake for the procedure."Procedure?"I d
[Clark]The dissection of Magnus' brain was one of the most intensely fascinating and uniquely horrifying things I have ever experienced. Using my computer to guide the charge, we attached wires to his brain, fed through a divide that my mother had retrieved from her vault. "This will disrupt his signal. It will keep him from making a full memory transfer. Hopefully whomever he's jumped into will have a fighting chance." Everything my mother has said since I volunteered for this task has sounded like something from a science fiction movie. The duplicates we had seen in Delilah's footage of her father's secret lab were all designed to hold Magnus's memories in an artificial extension of his life. Not all of them looked like his current body, as often it was useful for him to become someone entirely different for spying purposes. "Is this how he always seemed to know everything?" I ask aloud. We had wondered how he managed to get around all of our codes, to find ways to learn about wh
[Cordelia]"Wally?" Holding my hand above his head, I pause, hesitating. Just a moment before I was about to take this man's life without even the smallest shred of remorse. It was necessary to protect my family. My children and my husband. "Cordelia," He blinks, his eyes roving my face and the surroundings like a caged animal. Licking his dry, salty lips, his body is otherwise completely still. "I don't have much time. He's fighting me...I..."Wally's muscles spasm, shaking Atlas as well as he holds him in place. Closing his eyes, his body stills, as if the effort of keeping still is so great that he cannot do anything else at the same time. He whispers something that I can't quite make out, so I lean in, trying to capture his words.As my hair brushes his cheek, he repeats himself. "You need to end this, Cordelia. Don't let him escape to harm another. His other mind is gone, Suzanna saw to it, but he can still jump to someone else.""Wally, what are you saying," I shake my head. "No
[Cordelia]Atlas and I raced down the hall to the exit, soldiers moving out of our way as we passed, nobody bothering to stop us as my husband's icy glare and dominant aura kept them pinned in place. Magnus is dead and I have never been more terrified in my life. The door to the outside pushes open and we are instantly blinded by the overhead sunshine that covers the beach with an oddly bright gray that stings the eyes. It is warmer than it had been earlier, the wind having died down, trapping the moisture of impending rain, held in place by the gathering storm. "Jasper," I call out gently, scanning the beach. "Wally?""Atlas do you see Jasper?" I grab my husband's arm. His pulse is rapid beneath my fingertips as we move forward as one and find the abandoned picnic blanket and Jasper's little galoshes next to a much larger pair. "Wally!" I scream out towards the waves and find him standing in the water, at the far edge of the beach. There is no sign of my son. None. It's as if the