The Falcon Center, Sunday, August 15, 10:00 a.m.

Sylvia met him in the solarium-style lobby.

Dan took a long look around. Marble floors and soaring ceiling, and beyond the glass walls the lush gardens stretched for acres around the private clinic located just outside Birmingham. “Impressive.”

“If you saw the check they get every month, then you’d really be impressed.” She looked around the elegant lobby. “Too bad they couldn’t help her.”

This was a part of his past he’d tucked neatly away. He didn’t want to remember. But today, he needed to do this for the family. And maybe for himself. Mostly, though, he was here for Nina. “She’ll do better in New York.”

“Maybe. I appreciate very much that you came, Dan.” Sylvia shrugged. “It will mean a lot to Father as well.”

“I don’t know that seeing me will help.” The screaming and the cold, hard muzzle of the nine-millimeter flashed in broken pieces through his brain. The tie he wore suddenly felt too tight. “But I’m happy to do what I can.”

It was the least he could do.

“She loved you, Dan. As much as she was capable of loving anyone.” Sylvia wrapped her arm around his. “You made her happy. I think those months with you was the only time in her adult life that she was really happy on a personal level.”

As she led the way, to her sister’s room he assumed, he couldn’t help asking the question that had burned in the back of his brain all these years. “You all knew she was… ill. Yet you never said a word. You let the whole thing play out. Why didn’t anyone warn me?”

Nina’s illness was the family’s deep dark secret. At the time she and Dan were married, Nina would go months without any symptoms of the schizophrenia. Then she’d go over the edge. The last time she’d almost taken Dan with her. The entire Baron family insisted there had never been an episode like that before. Somehow, Nina hadn’t been able to find her way back from that one. It was as if she’d locked herself away deep inside her head and refused to come out.

If he’d known, maybe he could have done things differently. Made sure he was home on time. Focused a little more on her needs.

But he hadn’t gotten a clue from anyone, including Nina.

That crushing sensation settled on his chest. He’d failed her. There was no one else to blame.

“We thought somehow her love for you would be enough. That you were her savior.”

But he hadn’t saved her. He had come home that evening and climbed into the shower. When he’d come back into the bedroom, Nina had the weapon they kept in the closet for protection in her hand. She had screamed and ranted at him while he tried everything he knew to coax her into putting down the weapon. Finally, she turned it on herself but she hadn’t released the safety, buying him just enough time to take the weapon from her.

Sylvia paused outside an unmarked room. No numbers or names. This was an exclusive facility. Each patient was given as close to total anonymity as possible. She searched his eyes for a long moment. “Dan, whether you realize it or not, this is more for you than for Nina.”

He wanted to argue with her reasoning but he couldn’t find the words.

“One day you’ll look back on this moment and be grateful for the closure. She loved you. She never meant to hurt you. None of us did. But more importantly, you didn’t do anything wrong. You need to forgive yourself and move on with your life.”

How could he forgive himself?

Sylvia rapped softly on the door, then opened it. Nina sat in a chair near the windows on the far side of the room. Her brown hair was shorter now. She was thinner, paler. But she was as beautiful as ever. His chest tightened with emotion. No matter that he had thought he was prepared for this; he wasn’t. Seeing her this way just reminded him of how badly he had failed her.

“I brought someone to see you, Nina.”

Nina didn’t acknowledge her sister or Dan. No indication that she even realized they had entered the room showed on her face or in her posture.

He moved around in front of her and crouched down to her eye level. “How are you, Nina?”

As if she’d abruptly realized someone said her name, she looked at him without the slightest recognition. “It’s not time for my medication.”

Sylvia pulled up another chair and sat facing her. “You remember Dan. You’ve told me stories about when he would take you to dinner and a movie. You love movies, Nina.”

She turned to Sylvia. “Is it time for lunch yet? I don’t want the peas.”

Dan followed Sylvia’s lead and tried making conversation. If Nina understood anything they said or even who they were, she showed no indication.

She was gone. Just like that evening when she’d held his gun in both hands and tried to shoot, the woman he had fallen for and married was gone.

When the attendant came to take Nina for her walk, Dan said good-bye. Profound sadness shrouded him for all that she had lost. He hoped the miracle she needed would be found at the next clinic.

He turned to Sylvia and she seemed to visibly gather her uncharacteristically scattered composure. “Well, thank you again.” She cleared her throat. “I’m glad you and Jess are coming to the barbecue. I didn’t want to leave her out. She’s actually growing on me.”

Dan managed a strained laugh. “Jess will do that.”

Sylvia squared her shoulders. “Be sure to mention to her that next time she has a jumper to call someone else. I don’t do jumpers.”

Dan walked Sylvia to her car, then climbed into his own. As he drove away, he realized Sylvia had been right. He had needed to see Nina again.

He might never be able to forgive himself for not being what she needed but he could acknowledge the fact that he had tried.

That was enough for now.

That and the knowledge that Jess was waiting for him.