She stands and pulls me to my feet, then wraps an arm around my shoulders and angles us toward the sun. “I’d dare say you thrive on hard work. And if ever there was a thing worth working hard for, it’s love. And if Nixon is that person for you, I want you to remember something . . .” She trails off as I hang on every word. “The same way your mother gave me my life—my husband and my three kids because I like to think I have shared custody with Liz. That same way, she gave you Nixon. You may never have met him if you didn’t come to Kroydon Hills.” I close my eyes and tilt my face toward the sun
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