When he reached the third floor again, Justin found a subdued crowd. Michaela, quite uncharacteristically, sat by herself watching TV. She twisted around when her father came into the room and jumped up to come over to him.

“Can we go have dinner now?”

“Yes, of course,” Justin answered, smiling warmly at her. He saw Lizzie and said, “Where can we find something to eat around here?”

AJ answered him, “They have a dining room downstairs.”

The four of them walked over to the elevator, only to find Regan and Janice coming from the opposite direction. Justin's eyebrows rose.

“We met about your meeting,” Janice replied cryptically to his silent inquiry. Regan said nothing, and Justin nodded.

“We are heading down to your dining room. Please feel free to join us.”

The door to the office Regan and Janice had emerged from opened, and a young man stuck his head out. “Janice, you have a call.”

“Thank you, Ron. You all go downstairs without me. I'll join you shortly.”

Michaela's expression said she didn't like Regan's addition to their dinner party at all. She wanted a quiet dinner with her father, but for once she didn't protest. The five of them got onto the elevator together and took it one floor down.

Janice walked back to the office and picked up the phone.

“Janice here.”

She heard the male voice of a colleague at the other end that she recognized immediately.

“We've got trouble. Our surveillance spotted those two men who tried to follow Regan and Knight outside the safe house on West 78th Street. Fortunately, that house protects no clients right now, but still...”

“I presume you're evacuating?” she asked.

“Of course. We're using the backup exit, because those two haven't left the main entrance yet. We should expect company very soon,” he warned.

“I agree. Thanks. Call me if you have more developments.”

She sat quietly after she hung up, thinking about what the security breach implied.

To Ron she said, “Call downstairs. Tell them Alert Level Yellow.”

She logged onto her laptop, which sat waiting on the desk in front of her. Within moments she had sent a similar message to all of the other AU secret locations in the greater New York metropolitan area.

Meanwhile, when the five people emerged from the elevator, they found the now quiet dining room offered a wide range of available tables, so Michaela took her father by the hand and led him over to the aquarium.

“Aren't they beautiful, Dad?”

“They are indeed! Such a wonderful aquarium! It practically fills the whole wall.”

She nodded her agreement and pulled him to two chairs where they could see the aquarium right in front of them. The others took their chairs. They arranged themselves in such a way that Lizzie found the last remaining chair on Justin's other side. Michaela's body language showed she didn't like this outcome, but again she said nothing as Lizzie sat down self-consciously.

A young man came out of the kitchen, announced himself as Tony, and handed menus around. After taking drink orders, he withdrew to fill them.

Justin examined the menu, but he barely got halfway through it when Michaela tugged on his sleeve.

“Dad, why was I kidnapped?”

The question completely caught him by surprise. He checked Lizzie for a clue as to what he could say, and she replied to his silent request.

“I told her that you should be the one to tell her what happened and why it happened.”

He hardly knew where to begin. Lacking a better idea, he decided to start with the video.

“A video came into my possession, a video which would prove to be very embarrassing to the top financial decision makers in this country if it became public. It showed your Great Uncle David, Mr. Barry Bradford, the chairman of the Federal Reserve, and Mr. Harry Peterson, the Secretary of the Treasury. It showed a meeting they had where they discussed the bank bailout bill. Do you know about the bailout bill?” he asked his daughter.

She nodded solemnly but said nothing.

He paused, not sure how to continue. “Certain people wanted to get their hands on this video and hide or destroy it at any cost. So when they sent an emissary to me to demand it, they also arranged to kidnap you. They thought that by holding you they could force me to give them the video.”

“And did you?” she asked him, watching his face carefully.

“Eventually, yes, but at first I withheld it because they already had you. I feared that if I just gave it to them they....might harm you anyway.”

He turned to look squarely at her.

“It terrified me that I might not ever see you alive again.”

Janice emerged from the elevator and walked over to the table, taking her chair quietly while she observed the scene in the room.

Michaela threw her arms around her father's neck, and he hugged her right back.

After releasing him, she asked, “Why did they want the video so badly?”

He didn't know what to say at first. “Because the video showed Uncle David, the Federal Reserve, and the Federal Government planned all along for the bailout to happen. They admitted that monetary policy caused the whole financial crisis, not just foolish borrowers and greedy lenders as the press portrayed it.”

Michaela furrowed her brow and frowned. “Where did you get it?”

“The video?” Justin asked a bit helplessly as he turned to Lizzie.

Lizzie said, “I gave it to him.”

Michaela glared at her, filled with resentment. She didn’t know for sure why, but it seemed like everywhere she looked lately, there was Lizzie. She and her father had been fine all these years together, keeping the memory of her mother alive between them. Did Lizzie have to stick her nose into everything?

“Where did you get it?” she demanded.

“Is there something wrong?” Lizzie asked Janice with concern.

Janice shook her head no, but said nothing.

Michaela demanded of Lizzie, “You didn't answer my question.”

“It came from us,” Janice said to deflect attention from her conspicuous entrance, and Michaela turned to her in surprise. “It was recorded by representatives of the Agorist Underground.”

Michaela stared at her, wide-eyed. “Why?”

“Because we think that the people of this country need to know the truth. Don't you?”

Michaela considered this. It began to dawn on her the importance of this video, at least in the eyes of her friends and family.

She turned to Regan. “Why are you here?”

Regan said, “Originally, I was brought into the case to recover the video. That's done. Now, I'm here to establish an informal relationship between the FBI and the Agorist Underground.”

“Why did you want the video?”

Now Regan didn't know what to say. She realized that everyone around the room knew the truth except for this teenager.

Finally, Justin said, “The FBI did not want it for themselves. They needed to recover it for the bank.”

“The bank?” Michaela asked, reinforcing for all present her ability to ask increasingly uncomfortable questions.

“Yes,” her father said. “They kidnapped you.”

Now Michaela's eyes got really, really big. “The bank kidnapped me? I thought the video belonged to the AU!” Turning to Lizzie, she said, “Dad said you brought it to him!”

A hush fell over the table.

Finally, Lizzie spoke up and told Justin, “She deserves to know all of it.”

He closed his eyes and nodded, but he said nothing. After a moment of silence, Lizzie started to tell the whole story to Michaela. She told her about how she showed Justin not just the video but also the Hollywood producer's affidavit and the wire transfer photocopy. She told her how her mother had been the one who discovered the wire transfer just before her death.

Now she had Michaela's full attention.

“You knew my mother?”

Lizzie took a deep breath. “She was my college roommate.”

Michaela responded as if she had been slapped across the face. Fury rose within her as she demanded, “You knew her, and you never told me? Why didn't you ever tell me? Why?”

“Because...” Lizzie halted, her face turning hot, not knowing how to say it. “Because...”

“No!” Justin said. “No! Don't say a word!”

Now Michaela rounded on him, “If you know something about Mom, tell me!”

Justin sat in turmoil, unwilling to speak, staring at the tablecloth. Lizzie reached over and laid her hand on his arm.

“You must tell her.”

Justin closed his eyes, his mouth open, his face looking blindly upward.

Michaela glared blazingly at Lizzie, her eyes ordering her to speak.

Lizzie took a deep breath. “I saw your mother die. I saw the car crash.”

Now all eyes fell on Lizzie, except for AJ, whose own eyes suddenly found his hands extraordinarily interesting, and Justin, who still sat there speechless. Regan in particular sat up straight, listening intently. The revelation confirmed her earlier suppositions. Janice watched very curiously and intently.

Lizzie took another breath to calm herself before she said, “Your mother did not die in an auto accident. A man murdered her while she drove on the Long Island Expressway.” Tears filled the corners of her eyes as she looked at Michaela, who sat there, stunned, her mouth hanging open in utter shock.

“Murdered?” she whispered.

Lizzie's tears starting to flow uncontrollably now. She told the story of how Amanda had come to see her the day of her death. She told the whole story just as she'd told it to Justin last night. When she got to the part where she followed Amanda on the highway and saw the two men in the car that pulled alongside Amanda's car, she faltered. She almost couldn't continue. Breathing heavily, tears pouring down her face, she said, “Then I saw the man in the passenger seat pull out a gun. He pointed it at...your mother, and he pulled the trigger. Your mother died immediately, and her car went crashing off the road.”

“NO!” Michaela screamed. “NO!”

The horror of it nearly drove her mad. Mom? Murdered? Impossible! She looked daggers at her father and fairly screamed, “WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?”

Justin shook his head as he relived his own pain, uncertain what to say.

He finally whispered, “I didn't know until last night.”

“WHO TOLD YOU LAST NIGHT?” Michaela demanded.

All eyes went to Lizzie, who whispered, “I did.”

Now tears came streaming out of Michaela's eyes, too. She jumped to her feet, hatred pouring out of her at Lizzie. She gave a wail and ran from the room. Justin sat in shock, unable to move, as he watched her run. Finally, he regained his voice and called out, “Michaela! MICHAELA! COME BACK HERE!” but too late.

“Excuse me,” he said to the gathering as he got up to go after her.

Tony came out of the kitchen with his order pad and pencil in hand, but when he saw the scene, he hesitated. The palpable tension in the room made him pause. Janice and AJ looked up at him.

“Perhaps I should come back in a few minutes?”

“No, take our orders now. The other two can order–when they get back.”

While Lizzie sat there speechless and in turmoil. The others placed their orders quietly.

Tony finally turned to the mute Lizzie. “I'll take your order later, shall I?” and he left the room.

Meanwhile, Justin caught up with Michaela, who took refuge in the access room to the aquarium. The others saw them through the water, their images slightly distorted and darkened, but they could hear nothing.

Michaela sat in a chair, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her father pulled up another chair and sat down in front of her.

“Sweetheart, I am sorry. I really did not know before last night. You know I would have told you if I knew. You know!” he assured her.

“She knew!” Michaela said defiantly. “She knew all these years, but she never said anything!”

“She did not want to hurt you. She did not want to hurt either of us.”

“No! She's trying to tear us apart. That's been her plan all along!”

“Sweetheart, how can you say that?”

“I saw the way she kissed you today! She can't fool me, Dad! She planned this all along. She thinks...she thinks...”

Justin frowned at her. “What do you think she thinks?”

Michaela's face turned bright red.

“She thinks...she thinks she can replace Mom!”

“Michaela! How can you say that?”

“It's true! Come on, Dad, I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm practically grown up now. I know when a woman has designs on a man,” she said fiercely. “Well, she won't be my Mom! Will she? Please Dad, tell me you won't marry her!”

This knocked Justin completely off-balance. Kissing Lizzie earlier had been an act without clear intention, an act of emotion in the moment...well, perhaps not without intention. He certainly desired her greatly, but he hadn't had time to process his feelings for her further. Marriage had not yet entered his mind before his daughter's tirade.

“I do not know. We have not discussed anything like that. Tonight was just–well, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I did not even think clearly when I kissed her. I just did it.”

“When she kissed you, you mean!” Michaela fairly spat.

Now Justin stared her down sternly.

“You are not being fair to her or to me. I did kiss her. She did not kiss me back until I kissed her first. Besides, she saved both of our lives last night, and she has been very, very good to you since she came into our family.”

Michaela blanched at this and started to cry. She jumped up to run out of the room. Justin grabbed her by the arm and made her sit back down. He never handled her roughly, so the move surprised her.

“Now you just sit there and listen to me, young lady! You are behaving shamefully, and I will not have it! Do you understand me?”

“So, you really do like her more than me! You don't really care about me at all, do you?”

He reacted as if he'd been slapped.

“You have no right to say that,” he said angrily. Taking a breath, he said more calmly, “You know that is not true! How can you say that? You know that you mean the world to me. You know how important you are to me. You know beyond any doubt... or at least you should!”

“What do you mean she saved your life? She didn't do anything like that!” Michaela protested furiously.

“But she did! I thought she told you! She acquired a bullet-proof vest and talked me into wearing it. The vest kept the bullet from penetrating my chest and killing me.”

Michaela sat in shock, stunned once again by this latest news.

Tears started to fill his eyes as he said, “You know I love you more than anyone else in the world.”

She sat there, abashed.

Finally, she gazed up at him with big, red eyes. “I'm sorry Dad!”

He relaxed, held out his arms to her. “Oh, come here!”

Despite her age, she jumped into her father's lap and squeezed him with her arms and legs.

“I'm so sorry Dad!” she cried, her face buried in his shoulder.

He held her close, sighed, and whispered into her ear, “All right sweetheart. It will be okay.” He held her and rocked her gently as the tears flowed out of her onto his shirt, crying like she hadn't cried since six years earlier at the news of her mother's death in a car crash.

“It will be okay,” he said repeatedly, her head cradled in his neck as he gently rubbed her back between sobs.

After a time, she calmed down enough that he could release her a little. He soothed her blotchy red eyes with his open hand and pulled out and handed her his handkerchief.

“You know you owe Lizzie an apology, don't you?”

She nodded unhappily.

“Dry your eyes.”

She gave a little smile and used the white cloth, dabbing her eyes with it. “I've gotta make sure I don't spoil my makeup.”

“Are you wearing make-up? Oh good God!”

“Lizzie said I could,” she said with a frown, “as long as I let her check it each time.”

The absurdity of it overcame him, and Justin just sat there and laughed. His daughter laughed with him.

“Come on,” he said, patting her back. “Get up so we can join the others.”

She refused to get up. Instead, she grabbed him around the neck again.

“I love you Dad.”

His entire demeanor practically melted as he said, “I love you too, my no-longer-little girl, perhaps more than you realize,” and he took her into his arms for one last, long hug as he got a big kiss back. “You are getting too big for this.”

She laughed self-consciously as she handed his handkerchief back to him. She climbed off his lap and walked toward the door, her father getting up to follow her.

They walked back into the dining room, and as they approached the table, Michaela slowed.

She walked up to Lizzie. “I'm sorry.” Then she turned without pausing and walked uncomfortably over to her own chair.

Lizzie felt equally uncomfortable at the stiffness of it, but she nodded and said, “Thank you.” She checked with Justin who shrugged and gave her a noncommittal look.

Conversational patterns avoided anything to do with banking, videos, or kidnapping during a very tasty dinner after Justin, Michaela, and Lizzie ordered. Michaela remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meal, and she excused herself immediately afterward to walk over to the elevator. As she pushed the button, Lizzie also excused herself and got up to join her.

Michaela started to protest, but before she could get more than a couple words out, Lizzie said, “We need to talk.”

They entered the elevator together and went back up to the third floor. As soon as the elevator door opened, Michaela made a bee-line for the lounge. She turned on the TV and plopped down in front of it. Lizzie walked over behind her, switched the TV off and sat down facing Michaela.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you before now.”

Michaela just nodded, but she said nothing, gazing deliberately at the blank TV screen rather than Lizzie's eyes.

“Last night, you asked me if I liked your father. I didn't really answer you. Do you know why?”

Michaela glanced at her and shook her head.

“I didn't answer because I do like him, very much, but I was also afraid.”

Michaela frowned. “Afraid?”

“Yes, I knew that I couldn't answer you without also telling you about your mother first. It wouldn't have felt right. I feared you would react just the way you reacted downstairs if I told you.”

Michaela looked away but said nothing.

“You don't know the whole story yet,” Lizzie said, and Michaela flinched. “No, it won't hurt, but you must know. I said downstairs that your mother and I roomed together in college. That part is and was true, but we were more than roommates. She was my best friend in the whole world.”

At this, Michaela looked back into Lizzie's eyes, her face somber but interested.

“Your best friend?”

“We were inseparable at Harvard. We even had nicknames. I called her Snow, and she called me Flakes.”

“Flakes?” Michaela asked with surprise. “That's silly!”

“I suppose so,” Lizzie agreed with a slight smile, “but that's what we did. When people go to college for the first time, they get assigned roommates. Most of the time, roommates struggle to get along because they get shoved together without knowing each other first. Most eventually meet other people their first year and form new rooming relationships for the remaining three years, but not your mother and I. We became friends from the moment we met. We roomed together all four years. We were very lucky.”

“Did you do things together?”

“Oh, yes. Obviously, we did a lot of studying together, but we also went to movies and parties together. We ate meals together. We slept in the same room and gossiped together all the time.”

She continued, remembering, “I got jealous when she told me about your father. They were just girlfriend and boyfriend at that time. I had never met him, because he graduated before we got to Harvard. He seemed so much older than us, and Snow...your mother, I mean...acted older as a result. I gather she met him because she started working at the bank before she came to college, trying to raise money for books. Her family didn't have the money his family had, although apparently they moved in some of the same social circles. I guess I was jealous of her too,” Lizzie admitted. “She was always the prettier one. She got the most attention from the young men on campus, so it didn't seem fair that she had a boyfriend at home too.”

“But you're pretty!” Michaela blurted out.

“Thank you,” Lizzie acknowledged with a smile, “but your mother's beauty always showed me up without even trying. She was a stunner. Next to her, I felt like...well...second rate.”

“But you were friends anyway?”

“Oh yes,” Lizzie said, focusing on her memories, “the best of friends. Besides being so beautiful, your mom had a brilliant, insightful mind. I struggled to keep up with her, to be honest. We used to debate everything: politics, religion, movies, rock stars–you name it, we debated it. Sometimes,” she said with a snort, “we really just argued!”

Michaela giggled at this, and Lizzie did too. “Then, after we graduated, she told me that your father asked her to marry him. It made me furious, because it meant I would lose my best friend. I tried not to show it, but I think she guessed. I acted like she sold out by marrying into wealth. I couldn't think of any other way to cover up my jealousy. Anyway, after graduation, we went our separate ways. I never saw her again for the next nine years. She did send me a card when she had you, telling me she had a baby girl, but we had no other contact.

“That is,” Lizzie continued, “until the day she called me from the bank. I just received my doctorate at Columbia. I hadn't even thought about her for a long time, so it came as a bit of a shock when she called. Anyway, you know what happened.”

Michaela acted like she might cry at any moment, so Lizzie skipped past the uncomfortable scene on both their minds.

“Afterward, I cried and cried. It's a horrible thing to have your best friend killed right in front of you like that. It helped that AJ and I were good friends, study partners really.”

“Do you like him too?”

“AJ? Sure! Oh, no, not that way,” Lizzie added as she realized what Michaela meant. “AJ and I were never more than just good friends. I once asked him in a kidding voice why he never asked me out. He said he couldn't stand the idea. Naturally, I took offense,” she said pompously, and Michaela giggled again, “but he laughed and assured me it had nothing to do with me. I said, 'What do you mean it has nothing to do with me!' Then he apologized and told me the real reason. He was seeing someone! Candice was in our class too. I was so blind! It never occurred to me that he might like another girl.”

“Did it disappoint you?”

“A little maybe, but really AJ and I wouldn't have worked out. You see, we argued too much. A study partner who argues with you really makes you think about the issues involved, but in a love relationship, arguing all the time is miserable. I am grateful he and I never really fell for each other. On the other hand,” she reminisced, “he was a great friend when I really needed one. Your mother's death hit me very, very hard. I wouldn't even leave my apartment for days at a time. AJ pushed me to rejoin the world. His irritating way of teasing me finally got through, and I started to fight back. Then, he laughed and challenged me to see a movie with him or join him at some political meeting, or whatever. If I said no, he taunted me, saying I didn't have any guts. It made me mad, but it worked! Anyway, now you know how I found out about the Agorist Underground. AJ introduced me to it.”

“And,” she added, “he found me the job with your father as your tutor. That's how I ended up in your life.”

Now, Michaela sat up straight, very interested. “Why did you take the job?”

“I almost didn’t. The AU wanted me to spy for them, and I didn't want to do that. Well, not spy really,” Lizzie said, seeing the alarm on Michaela's face. “More of a liaison really. Do you know what a liaison is?”

“A go-between.”

“Right. They wanted me to come to your house to build a base and see if I could some day win your father over to the AU cause.”

“So you were a spy!” Michaela accused her.

Lizzie shook her head vigorously.

“No, I didn't come to spy on you. I almost didn't come at all. Again, AJ made the difference. He pointed out that you were my best friend's daughter. He asked me how I could desert my best friend when she needed me most?”

Michaela's furrowed brow told Lizzie she didn't understand.

“He meant your mother and you,” Lizzie clarified, “and he was right. Snow might be gone, but her daughter was still here. I didn't know your father yet, and if you remember, I didn't like him because I thought he was 'part of the establishment,' remember? I couldn't imagine how a widower would handle raising a daughter by himself, particularly a stodgy old banker!”

Michaela giggled at this, and Lizzie continued with a smile, “So I finally agreed to interview with him, telling AJ I wouldn't promise anything. Do you remember my visit to the house that day? You were only eight years old at the time.”

Michaela remembered. “You came to his study!”

“Right again, and you know what? You convinced me to take the job.”

“I did?” Michaela asked, startled.

“Yes. I saw the way you and your father behaved toward each other. You obviously adored him, and he equally obviously adored you. I expected him, as a 'stodgy old banker' to treat you like another object that he owned in his rich man's world, but he did not. He surprised me! He showed me that you two have a wonderful, loving relationship, that you were and are the most important person in his life. Your mother's death hit him hard, you know, perhaps harder than you realized, but it didn't diminish his affection for you at all. That won me over.”

Michaela sat and considered this.

“Anyway,” Lizzie said, “I decided to take the job. He told me about his concern that you didn't have your mother anymore. He wanted a female influence for you. And for me, well, I realized that AJ was right. I could help my best friend the most this way. I could honor her memory by helping her little girl grow up to be a fine young woman. And look at you! You continue to grow into this marvelous person I see sitting before me right here!”

Michaela turned and gazed directly in Lizzie's eyes, searching for something. Lizzie thought she knew the meaning of that look.

“I would never, ever, presume to be your mother,” Lizzie said. “I couldn't do that to your mother, or to you, but I really hoped I could be your friend. I thought that is what we were, friends, but if you can't now, because of how your father and I feel about each other, I guess I understand,” Lizzie finished lamely, her face hot.

Still troubled, Michaela's said, “Well, even though you aren't my mother, if you marry Dad, can I call you Mom anyway? That wouldn't be the same thing, would it?”

Lizzie snorted in disbelief and covered her mouth to suppress her suddenly urgent desire to burst into laughter.

She quickly regained her composure, smiled a little sadly, and said softly and with sincerity, “You would do me a great honor.”

Michaela threw her arms around her and gave her a big hug, which Lizzie gratefully returned as she burst into happy tears.

“Your mother would be very proud of you, you know.”

Releasing her after a long moment, Michaela said, “Do you think we missed dessert?”

“I don't know. Probably,” answered Lizzie, surprised by the sudden change in topic.

“Then let's go get some anyway!” Michaela said, and Lizzie laughed.

“You are so much like your mother!” she said, shaking her head incredulously at the similarity. Michaela beamed as she grabbed Lizzie's hand and dragged her toward the elevator.

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