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drove out of the homey family neighborhood, Miri realized she would never see that house or its neighbors again. Once they reached Atlanta, she would never see Dean again.
    Maybe, her inner voice whispered snidely. You thought you’d never see him again when you went to prison, and there he was today. You thought you’d never see him again after he let you off at the market, and there he was at the bus station. Do you really believe he’s going to drive you all the way to Atlanta and leave and not look back?
    That might not be his plan, but it was hers. She intended to make sure it happened just that way. No matter how much Dean wanted the money, it was hers, and Sophy’s, Oliver’s and Chloe’s. There was no way anyone was keeping it from them.
    Though John W. Smith had managed quite well for more than twenty years.
    Guess we were an obligation after all, weren’t we, Daddy?

Chapter 3
    “I don’t suppose you know how to get to Atlanta.”
    Miri glanced at Dean, the man who often worked for her father, who spoke of him with respect. Did he have any idea how Mr. Smith had abandoned his first family?
    “You go east.” When he snorted, she shrugged. “I didn’t need to know. I intended to let the bus driver figure it out. So, driver, figure it out.”
    “Feel under your seat. There should be an atlas there. I’ll drive, you navigate.” The dash lights made his smirk easy to see. “We’ll be a team.”
    This time she snorted. The only team she’d ever been part of was Team Mom, first with her siblings and then eight years by herself.
    “I saw a T-shirt somewhere I’m gonna get you. Says ‘Doesn’t play well with others.’”
    “Especially with people who lie,” she muttered.
    “Hey, I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets when we were together. I was working undercover. You were stealing money from your boss. I think that makes my lies a little more righteous.”
    Righteous. John W. Smith had transformed himself into a very righteous man—respectable business owner, church deacon, city leader, adoring husband and loving father. Father, to two daughters and two sons, children whom he showered with every privilege money could buy. Apparently, his first family had just been practice. By all appearances, he’d gotten it right the second time.
    Miri didn’t believe there was a single thing righteous about Smith besides his arrogance. She knew better.
    * * *
    “No defense for that?” Dean asked when time had passed without a response. He shifted his gaze from the street to Miri, staring blankly into the distance. She’d always kept things from him. He’d known that practically from the start. He’d thought it might have been about her family, since she’d never admitted having one. Or maybe some boyfriend or husband had run around on her and broken her heart. Maybe she’d suffered traumas that he couldn’t imagine.
    But she’d always been quiet, cautious, keeping him at arm’s length. She’d been wary, skittish, but he’d known with time and patience, he could break through those walls she’d put up around herself.
    Once he’d figured out that she was the embezzler he was looking for, time had suddenly run out.
    “I pleaded guilty when I was arrested, and I served my sentence. I don’t need to defend anything I’ve done to you.”
    Dean’s fingers flexed tighter on the wheel as he turned on to a freeway ramp. Why hadn’t she fought the charges? God knows she’d had money to hire an attorney. She could have gotten a shorter sentence, maybe even skated on the charge completely. Who knew what a jury would do when presented with a mega-rich man like Mr. Smith versus a delicate, beautiful young woman who could pass for an angel atop a Christmas tree?
    But there was one more important question, and he asked it without thinking. “Why did you do it?”
    “I was guilty.”
    “Not the plea. Why did you embezzle the money?” In his business, the why didn’t usually matter. His clients asked