After leaving the firehouse, Yael made her way to Malkah Enterprises, searching for the architect's initial blueprints to study over the weekend. As the cab moved through the city, Haustin dominated her thoughts, and she couldn't help the smile playing on her lips. Anticipation and fear skittered through her as well. While she couldn't wait for their date, he'd given her a raw look at what he wrestled with on a daily basis. A relationship with him would be messy, but she intended to find out why they'd met again and if there truly was anything between them worth pursuing.

A warm memory surfaced of a conversation Yael had with her mom a year before she died. During a pedicure at their favorite salon, her mother flashed a devilish grin and said, "Complicated love, and a complicated man, keeps life interesting." Her deep brown eyes twinkled mischievously in her youthful face, framed by shiny dark hair. "Passion is important when looking for the right partner. I found it with your dad."

"Ew, Mom, I don't need to hear about Dad and passion, not in the same sentence. And he's boring. You guys have, like, a perfect, unexciting life. What's complicated about it?"

"Don't forget, his last name is Malkah. Quite intimidating to a middle class girl from Jersey." A knowing smile quirked her mother's lips, reminding Yael of the Mona Lisa. "And your father is not always responsible. He has his wild side."

All these years later, Yael thought she finally understood what her mom had been talking about. Her and Haustin's relationship was barely off the ground, and being with him terrified her on many levels, but according to her mom's crazy logic, it might be worth taking a chance. Yael snorted. She always thought she'd be the complicated one in a relationship, not the other way around.

Stepping off the elevator and into reality, Yael's progress faltered. Employees buzzed about in a chaotic dance, faces severe and determined, far from typical for a Saturday morning. She ran into Pam, one of the executive secretaries.

"Didn't expect you all to be here today," Yael said.

"Casey wants to stay on top of this fiasco." The older woman adjusted the stack of files in her arms. "Do you have a second?"

"Sure." Yael let Pam draw her into an unoccupied cubicle. "What's up?"

"Those lemon cupcakes you brought in Thursday were amazing. My sister-in-law is a strict vegan and I always have the hardest time finding yummy cakes when her birthday comes around. I know it's terrible to ask, but could you whip up something small for me? Next week? Or is it too soon? I understand if you're busy. I only ask because I am desperate."

Her request sent a thrill through Yael. In California, she'd done plenty of special orders for the shop, and this gave her a chance to bake for a reason, not just to keep her mind occupied.

"I'd love to, Pam."

"Oh, thank you," she gushed. "I felt a little awkward asking, considering you're, well, you know, a Malkah, but like I said, I didn't know what else to do."

She laid a hand on Pam's arm. "Don't be silly. I enjoy baking. It calms me, sort of like how other people do yoga. Let's get together Monday and discuss flavors. I want to check on Casey, see how he's holding up."

"That man is a saint. He hasn't panicked once and I swear it keeps the rest of us levelheaded."

Yael said goodbye to Pam and set off, only to be accosted once more by Paul, an intern who seemed to have a different color of Prada eyeglasses for every day of the week. Saturday's was apparently jade green.

"We received the inspection report on your building. I put it on your desk."

"Great. More reading. Thanks, Paul." She glanced around. "Anything I can do to help?"

He frowned, straightening his skinny tie. "I think we got it under control for now. Believe it or not, it's starting to calm down. You saw what it was like yesterday."

"Insane," she confirmed, moving on.

Because of the crane accident, all hands were on deck, and guilt crept in. Maybe she should be here working instead of getting ready for a date. She'd check in with Casey, see if he needed her. A few feet from Casey's open office door, his raised voice blasted down the hallway.

"I'm not having these same damn arguments with you, Dad."

Yael paused, torn between retreating and curiosity, but the level of desperation in Casey's voice rooted her to the spot.

"No. I've given you enough money. The only reason I did it the first time was because of Mom." He paused. "So what if I'm working for the enemy? You raised me to make something of myself. That's what I'm doing."

Working for the enemy? Almost without thinking, Yael's feet carried her closer.

"I had nothing to do with it!" he roared, and she flinched. In a calmer but still frantic voice, Casey continued, "Damn it, Dad, I told you. There's nothing I can do about your mistakes. It's done. Over with. You need to pull yourself together and be the man Mom needs right now. Unless it's to talk about the Giants or the new Corvette, don't call me."

Something hard connected with the wall, and the air became trapped in her lungs. Casey barreled around the corner as she attempted to sneak away. Catching sight of her, he stopped dead in his tracks, and his face reddened.

"How long have you been standing there?" he demanded.

"I... I'm sorry. I came to see if you were in, to see how it was going at the accident site. I didn't hear much," she lied.

Casey nodded tersely, then slumped against the wall. He rubbed a hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. It drew her attention to his haggard appearance. Heavy stubble sprouted from his jaw, dark smudges rimmed his eyes, and his face seemed gaunt. This stress wasn't just from the crane incident.

"I should go," Yael said, but as she prepared once more to retreat, he drew her into his office.

"Dad was my inspiration to get involved with a company like Malkah Enterprises. He ran a smaller construction business out of Staten Island. Always had big dreams. Too big. We don't see eye to eye on a few things." Casey shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Sorry I snapped at you."

"Family can be hell sometimes." She relaxed her grip on her purse. "Are you okay?"

He glanced at her with resignation. "Just exhausted. This crane is becoming a giant pain in the ass. It wasn't insured."

"But we needed a permit to operate it, right? And the city would have asked for proof of insurance." She remembered that much, at least.

"Exactly. And it appears the city does have proof on file, along with a permit signed by me."

His dire tone helped her connect the dots pretty quickly. "You did no such thing."

"Nope. Not my job. It's the department head's. I've got Peter going through all our other construction permits to see if there are any more inconsistencies. He and I had some choice words for each other, which is nothing new, he claims it took me way too long to show up yesterday, which is a low blow." Casey stared blankly at his feet before rubbing his face and nailing her with a tormented look. "We're going to be paying for this for a long time."

Yael's mind scrambled to keep up. Implicating Casey meant either someone was targeting him directly, or they knew that because of his somewhat new position, he'd be an easy chink in Malkah Enterprises's armor. Both scenarios filled her with dread, and judging by his downtrodden expression, Casey knew it too.

"Our most important task at the moment, besides damage control, is coming to agreeable settlements for damaged property, which some of our liability covers, but not much. There are a mountain of fines to pay to the city, lump settlements to car owners, building owners, the injured—the list doesn't end. We have to ensure the company name remains one our investor's and customer's trust.

"Monday, I'm meeting with Peter again to see if he knows of anyone under him who might have reason to sabotage us or if one of the construction crews we employ has a history of accidents. Should be interesting considering our conversations are frigid and filled with shouts and insults, but we're communicating so there's that."

"Peter has dedicated his life to this company. Whatever differences you two have, I'm pleased you've come together on this in whatever way you can. Do you need anything from me?" she asked, drained just by listening to what he was dealing with. How did he do it?

"Got any drugs handy?"

Usually, his inappropriate drug jokes annoyed her, but she found herself smirking. "You'd only feel numb for a little while. Afterwards, all your problems come rushing back in, not a great solution for avoiding responsibility. Besides, you are too much of a control freak to become an addict."

He grinned, the movement emphasizing the exhaustion on his face. "Then I'll take four dozen of your sweetest cupcakes. A sugar coma sounds mighty fine."

"My professional opinion is a shower, food, and a nap."

"Do I smell that bad?"

"Why do you think I'm standing all the way over here?"

Casey clutched his chest. "Heartbreaker."

"I do what I can."

They shared a brief stare, and Yael found herself shifting restlessly. Casey broke the silence. "There's more." He plucked a newspaper off his desk. "The vultures are circling."

She took the Post from him and glanced at the large, bold headline, "Malkah Enterprises Under Assault?" Below was a picture of the destroyed crane. "How bad?"

"The usual, we were neglectful in our safety standards. Or someone has it out for us. Or we're attempting insurance fraud. They end it wondering if the return of an actual Malkah will save us all."

Her head jerked as she looked at him. "They think I'll save us? Did the reporter do their research?"

"Not yet, or they're saving it for a juicy follow up." Casey inched closer. "Don't worry about what they might uncover. I've got your back."

Yael didn't have the heart to tell him how far off he was. It mattered what people thought of her. Malkah Enterprises operated in the public eye. Now, with this article attracting attention, everyone would be watching, waiting for her to stumble.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but a shrill ringing cut him off. Plucking his cell from the top of the desk, he frowned. "OSHA again. I have to take this. Thanks for stopping by, Yael. I needed a break."

He retreated behind his desk, already talking, and she sighed. There had to be a way to help him other than offering a few quips and laughs. She clutched the newspaper in her hands, hating how it shook. Was she ready for any negative press generated about her?

Guess I have to be, she thought to herself.

Maybe Miriam had an idea or some advice. She'd stop by and fill her grandmother in. The two of them could brainstorm. Yael strode towards the elevator, files, and Haustin momentarily forgotten.

By the time Yael arrived at Miriam's, she'd read the article half a dozen times and was ready to spit fire. The reporter all but suggested the incident was deliberate. Miriam's illness warranted a mention, as did the man filling her position. His history—working for his dad, Columbia University, coveted internship by the time he was twenty-three, not long after Yael herself left the company. In the end, they made it sound like Malkah Enterprises was at fault and scrambling to cover their asses. The part about her was short, speaking of her return and whether the timing was significant. Nothing more than over-sensationalized tripe hyped up in hopes of selling more papers.

While Casey did believe they were looking at an act of sabotage, it wasn't quite as apocalyptic as the Post made it sound, at least she hoped it wasn't. What a mess. She left the paper on the floor of the cab, right where it belonged. Best thing to do with that kind of garbage was ignore it.

Dorota greeted her at the door, frown lines bracketing her mouth. Immediately, Yael's mind shifted gears.

"Bad day?" she asked, dread forming a tight ball between her shoulders.

"Yes." The nurse let her in, and they paused in the foyer. "You haven't seen it yet, but sometimes she drifts in and out of the present. She'll call for her husband, or think I'm her mother. Doctors say it's normal considering her sickness and the amount of morphine she's on."

"Can I see her? Do you think it's a good idea?"

"Family is always a good idea." Dorota patted her arm before shuffling towards the kitchen.

Yael turned the corner into the room and approached the bed. Miriam looked terrible, her skin gray and sallow, red flakes indicating a spot on her arm where it'd cracked and bled. Yael gently touched her hand, and the old woman stirred at the contact.

"Mother? Must I go to that silly summer camp?"

Yael swallowed past the painful lump in her throat. "Grandmother, it's me. Yael."

Miriam smiled blearily, her pale eyes locking on her. "My beautiful granddaughter."

Perched on the edge of the bedside chair, all thoughts of the article fled Yael's mind. There were more important things to worry about. The last thing she wanted was to burden her, so she concentrated on spending some precious, business-free time with Miriam.

"What are you doing today?" the woman asked.

"I stopped by Haustin's firehouse and dropped off a basket of goodies. He's the firefighter I told you about."

"Baking for a man is the surest way into his heart." She sighed. "I love a man in uniform."

"Grandfather Bernie was in the army, wasn't he?"

"World War II. The night before he shipped out, he took me ice skating at Rockefeller Center and proposed." Miriam grimaced, either in pain or at a memory. "Those were the longest two years of my life, always waiting for bad news."

"I can't imagine."

Then, a pretty smile stretched her wrinkled face, giving the illusion of youth. "Even in the middle of a war, Bernard managed to send me a dozen red roses on my birthday."

"They are your favorite." Yael remembered visiting Miriam's office at Malkah Enterprises as a little girl. There was always a fresh vase on her desk, and the phantom scent tickled her nose.

"You were too fussy for roses. Said if a guy liked you enough to send flowers, he should find out what kind you actually preferred. Such a spitfire."

"And I still think that."

They were quiet for a few minutes. "It is nice to have you here, Yael."

"I feel good being here, with you and in New York. Healing. I miss my bakery, my apartment with a peek of the ocean from the bathroom window, but this city is like a favorite sweater. Fits just right."

"Do you want to go back?"

"Not really. I'm home. Or I will be once I find a permanent place to live."

"Wonderful." She wheezed in a lungful of air. "The penthouse?"

"Too many memories. I need somewhere I can make a fresh start."

"This will be yours."

Startled, Yael realized she'd never considered what happened to the house after Miriam passed. Considering their estrangement, she hadn't thought her name was in the will anymore. The idea chilled and humbled her, so she played it off with a joke.

"Too big for a single gal like me."

"Find a man. What about Casey? Or this firefighter?"

"Playing matchmaker now?"

"Just want to see you settled and happy."

Heat crept into Yael's cheeks. "I have a date with Haustin tonight."

"Good. Is he worthy?" The question was followed by a flinch of pain, and her grandmother shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable.

"What do you need?" Yael asked, standing and hovering, fear creeping up her spine.

"My youth back." Miriam waved a hand. "I'd rather talk about men. Haustin?"

"He's got a lot of wounds, similar to mine." She sank into the chair again. "It's hard to explain. I thought about him quite a bit over the years, never romantically, but seeing him the other night, attraction hit me hard. I'm attracted to his ghosts because they're mine too, but he is nice to look at as well."

"Be careful. All I ask." Her eyes drifted shut, but she continued to probe. "And Casey? He's quite a looker."

"That he is. We're friends. I don't see him that way. I mean, maybe I would if Haustin wasn't in the picture." Again, she blushed. If she was completely honest, she'd admit how much she loved teasing and joking with Casey, or how when he smiled, flashing that dimple, her stomach did weird things. They wouldn't be a good fit, though. Before the drugs and falling buildings, he'd have been perfect. She doubted they had much in common outside of Malkah Enterprises anyway and worried if they did get involved, her darkness would ruin his happy-go-lucky attitude.

"Fun to see you flustered."

Miriam drifted into unconsciousness, ending their conversation. Yael stood and stretched, staring down at her grandmother with a smirk. She was so glad they had moments like this, if only they lasted. Glancing at the clock, she saw there were still a few hours before she needed to get home and start primping for her date. The word sent a flutter through her chest. It'd been so long since she'd been with a guy. She'd dated, sure, but not anything with this level of anticipation. Her fingers itched with the desire to bake her uneasiness away, but she decided to search for another way to pass the time, not as therapeutic but just as healing.

She wandered into the kitchen and found Dorota folding towels in the adjoining laundry room.

"Is she sleeping?"

"Fitfully. Do you know what she did with my parents' stuff?"

"It's all boxed up on the third floor."

"Here?"

"Yes." Anna finished a pillowcase and stacked it on the counter. "I asked Miriam about it and she said she could never bring herself to sort through it or get rid of it. Go on up. I'm sure she won't mind."

"Thank you."

Yael returned to the foyer and climbed the winding staircase to the other floors. The second was mostly closed, save for her dad's old study and Dorota's room. As she made her way up farther, she began to see signs of neglect—a burnt-out light bulb, dust on the banister, the scent of musty air. All the doors were shut, and the first one she opened brought her to a standstill.

The room was filled to the brim with boxes. She gawked at the sight, unable to process what she was seeing. Most were labeled 'Hannah', and Yael did nothing to stop the tear slipping down her cheek. Instead of checking the other rooms, she decided to start there.