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down.
    “I’ve fallen in love with Jett Jennings.”
    Sheridan picked up the card and dashed into the bathroom. She tossed Quentin’s words into the toilet. A second later she released the bile that rose within her. She freed herself of her pain until she was drained. Then she pushed herself up from the floor, stared at the emotional waste that filled her toilet, and with a breath, she flushed it all away.

Chapter Two
    S he really didn’t want to do this.
    Sheridan paused at the stove as the first school van stopped in front of the house. This was the late van; the one that brought home the children who stayed for extracurricular activities. Sheridan watched Tori jump out, wave to her friends, then run to the door.
    For the fiftieth time, Sheridan wiped her face, hoping to erase all the emotional signs that had plagued her for more than nine hours. And she had counted every one of the five hundred forty minutes that tears had poured from her.
    “Hi, Mom. I’m home,” her nine-year-old screamed, the way she always did. But only today did Sheridan notice how Father Knows Best –ish her daughter sounded.
    Sheridan sniffed back her emotions, plastered the best smile she could onto her face, and waited for Tori to bounce into the kitchen. “Mom, that smells good,” she said as she raised herself on her toes and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Yeah, chicken fajitas. My and Dad’s favorite.”
    Sheridan had forgotten that part—how Quentin loved the whole-wheat fajitas as much as the kids.
    “Are you hungry?”
    “Yeah. Lunch was horrible today,” Tori said, as if she knew how to whip up a meal. She dumped her backpack onto the floor. “I think the real cooks are still on Christmas holiday.”
    “How was dance practice?” Sheridan asked, pretending this day was normal.
    “Okay. We got our assignments for the recital and I got the best part,” she chatted. “But I’m not telling what it is. The show’s in April. You and Dad are coming, right?”
    Sheridan swallowed. It was a typical question about their typical life. “Now, sweetie, have we ever missed one of your special moments?”
    Tori grinned. “Nope,” she said, swinging her thick braids from side to side.
    “Go change and get started on your homework. We’ll eat in about an hour.”
    “Okay,” she said. She grabbed her bag and said, “We’re eating early. Will Dad be home by then?”
    The question made Sheridan stop. She hadn’t expected her lies to begin until dinner: casually, she would tell the children their father would be gone, but for only a few days. Simple lies for the most complicated event in her life.
    “Mom?”
    “Your dad had to go away on business.”
    “He didn’t tell me that this morning.”
    Sheridan could hear the frown in Tori’s voice. “No, he didn’t, sweetheart, because this was an emergency.” Sheridan turned and faced Tori as if that were the truth.
    “Is everything all right?” Tori asked with her frown still in place.
    Sheridan nodded. “It was just some medical stuff. But he said to tell you that he loved you and…” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
    She had her first victory when her daughter’s smile returned and Tori sang, “Okay. I can’t wait for him to get home. I learned a new chess move and want to test it out.”
    Sheridan breathed, but she knew Christopher would never be that easy. Her son was curious, destined to be a journalist or a lawyer.
    Fifteen minutes later, the inquisitive one barreled through the door. “Mom,” he bellowed.
    “Chris, why do you do that?” Sheridan asked the way she always did when he came shrieking into their house.
    He grinned the way he always did. “What? Don’t you just love hearing your number one son’s voice? Maybe I should sing for you.”
    Sheridan held up her hand. “Please don’t.”
    “Why not?” Christopher pretended to be offended. “I was thinking about dropping out of school and hooking up with Alicia Keys. Can you imagine