got it covered here.”
“You must’ve had plans for this weekend.”
“Nothing that couldn’t be shifted around.”
“Thank you. You and Angela are the best. Always there when I need you.”
“Right back at you. I’ll never be able to pay you back for everything you did for Brooke last year.”
“I was just doing my job.”
“You did way more than your job, and we both know it.”
“All that matters is that she’s doing great and finishing up her senior year and going to college.”
“UVA of all places,” Tracy said. “I’m so proud of her.”
“We all are. I’m going to grab a quick shower and change before I head back to the hospital. But first, let’s get my big boy up to bed.”
They woke Scotty, who brightened at the sight of Sam. “How’s Dad?”
“He’s cranky about being in the hospital.”
“That’s good. That means he’s fine.”
“I’m going to tuck you in and head back to be with him. Tracy will spend the night, okay?”
“Sure, you should be with him.”
“I should be with both of you.”
“Until we clone you, that’s not possible.”
“Dear God,” Tracy said, shuddering dramatically, “do not clone her. One of her is more than enough.”
“No kidding,” Scotty said.
“Hey, I’m in the room,” Sam said, while hiding her pleasure at her son’s teasing. She much preferred that to the tears of the night before.
He was still weak and droopy, so they helped him into pajamas and got him tucked into bed.
“I’ll see you in the morning, buddy.”
“Will Dad get to come home tomorrow?”
“I fear for Harry’s safety if he doesn’t spring him.”
“I hope he gets to come home.”
Sam leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Me too. Get some sleep and don’t worry about anything. He’s fine.”
His eyes closed. “It’s hard.”
“What is?”
“When you care more about someone else than you do about yourself. It’s hard when something happens to them.”
Sam had to swallow the huge lump in her throat before she could reply. “Yes, it is.” She kissed him again and left him to sleep. After a quick shower and a change into yoga pants and a sweatshirt, she was on her way back to GW to spend the night with Nick.
She sent Angela home to Spencer, who had gotten both kids into bed and raised the white flag on the day. He’d sent a hilarious selfie with a six-pack of beer sitting next to him on the sofa.
“He’s getting so lucky tonight,” Angela said after sharing his comical texts with Sam.
“He got lucky the day you said yes to him.”
“Remember that night when I went to meet him? The night you met Nick for the first time?”
“I remember that night like it was yesterday.”
“Funny how that was such an important night for both of us. I think all the time about how Spence might’ve gotten away while I was busy mourning my relationship with Johnny the douche bag. And you having to put up with all that crap with Peter to get to what you have now with Nick...”
“I don’t like to even think about him.”
“He’s been quiet lately.”
“Ever since his ‘suicide’ attempt you mean?” Sam made air quotes around the word suicide.
“He must’ve been so disappointed when you didn’t come running.”
“Whatever. Those days are long over.”
“Better be,” Nick said.
“He is such an eavesdropper,” Angela said, laughing.
Sam gave her a hug and sent her on her way. “You really are a terrible eavesdropper,” Sam said to Nick when they were alone.
“Come here.”
“I’m here.”
“All the way.” Without opening his eyes, he held out his arms to her, and she crawled into bed with him.
“There. Much better.”
“You do seem much better.”
“I’m outta here in the morning. I don’t care what Harry says.”
“You’ll do what you’re told, which is what you always say to me when I’m in this place.”
“Hate when my own words come back to haunt me. How’s Scotty?”
“Feeling much better and worried about you. He said it’s hard when you care about someone else more than you care about yourself.”
“Did he now.” Nick sighed. “Wow.”
“I knew that would get to you.”
“Right here.” He rubbed his chest. “Now, how about you fill me in on what happened yesterday? It was only yesterday, right?”
“Yeah, it was. Feels like a lifetime ago, though.” She told him about the results of the IAB hearing, Josh Hamilton and what he’d uncovered on the Internet.
“So he just happened to see an age-progression photo that was of him? What’re the odds of that?”
“Astronomical.”
“Imagine seeing one of those photos, and it’s you. Jesus.”
“You haven’t even heard the real kicker yet. Guess who his father is?”
“Who?”
“Troy Hamilton.”
“As in the FBI director Troy Hamilton?”
“One and the same.”
“Holy shit. Sam, seriously... Are you kidding me right now?”
“Would I do that?”
“What’s your plan?”
“To keep him alive while we wait for DNA proof that he’s Taylor Rollings.”
“So you think he is?”
“I think he could be. The resemblance to the photo is uncanny. It’s like someone drew a picture of him and posted it. His thirtieth birthday is next week, so the timing works. And according to Freddie, who I’ve got babysitting him, his father has been calling every fifteen minutes, which is more than he’s called his son in the last five years.”
“So Hamilton knows about the photo—and he knows that Josh knows.”
“Yeah, that’s the theory. How well do you know Hamilton?”
“Not very well. From what I’ve seen at hearings on the Hill and in a few meetings at the White House, he’s a cool customer with an ego the size of Texas.”
“It’s well earned. He’s a legend in law enforcement circles.”
“And in his own mind.”
“So you don’t like him.”
“I don’t know him well enough not to like him, but something about him is off-putting. Can’t put my finger on it.”