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afternoon sun. As his gaze rested upon his
wife, the air sucked from his lungs at the vision of beauty that
met his eyes. The rays danced off her auburn tresses in the
sunlight. Beautiful as ever , he thought. Nothing had
changed, except for one small addition—their newborn daughter.
    He stood in silence, afraid to speak his next words.
Slowly, he stepped inside and embarked on a most unpleasant
task.
    Chapter Four
    Suzette spent her time alone as a welcome reprieve.
Her husband had an uncanny sixth sense when it came to her needs to
recuperate on certain days. He probably noticed that morning she
felt out of sorts.
    Only two months earlier she had given birth to their
first child, a baby girl named Angelique. The delivery had been
extremely difficult, with long, tedious hours of labor, and the
loss of more blood than the physician cared to see in the
afterbirth. It had drained Suzette physically and mentally.
    On this particular morning, Philippe decided to take
little Robert on a walk. Their son had exhibited a short temper
lately, and Suzette and Philippe attributed his rash behavior to a
bit of jealousy over the new arrival in the home. Perhaps some
undivided attention between father and son would help with his
feelings of neglect.
    After morning tea and toast, she put on an apron and
headed outside to enjoy the fresh air. Even though they had a
gardener to tend to the grass and trees of their upper class
residence, Suzette wanted to nurture a small plot of flowers by
herself. Lilies reminded her where she had come from and the trials
of her past. They held in their beauty the hope that life would
ultimately bring her the contentment she sought.
    After a half hour in the morning sun, she went
indoors, washed her hands, and asked for another cup of tea.
Suzette headed to the parlor and a delightful book, written by her
favorite English author, who treated her to times of female
fantasy. She took a seat by the window to soak up more sun and
opened the volume to the placeholder and began reading.
    “How is my beautiful wife?”
    Philippe’s voice startled her, and she looked up at
him. He stood in the doorway with an agitated look upon his
face.
    “What are you doing back so early?” she asked,
annoyed. A few more hours to enjoy before the house became busy
again would have been diverting.
    “Suzette, I need to speak with you.”
    Suzette sighed and closed her book. Philippe looked
pale. Immediately, she knew by his unusual demeanor that something
had to be wrong.
    “ I need a word in
private.”
    Philippe closed the sliding doors to the parlor until
they met tightly together. Suzette looked at him in confusion.
    “I don’t understand why you’re acting so strangely,
Philippe.” She stood to her feet and walked toward him. He remained
silent and pulled her into his arms and held her tight. Afterward,
he released her with a frown upon his face.
    “Come sit with me a moment,” he beseeched.
    “Philippe, what is it? You’re frightening me.”
    They settled on the divan, and Philippe picked up her
hand and stroked it tenderly for a few moments before he answered.
Finally, he spoke with considerable difficulty, sputtering words
from his nervous lips.
    “I saw—I saw Robert today.”
    He looked into her amber eyes with a solemn
expression. Suzette’s head tilted in puzzlement as she tried to
make sense of his declaration. The only name of Robert spoken for
the past five years represented her son. It took a few moments to
grasp the meaning behind his words.
    When the reality sank in, her eyes widened. Suzette
seized Philippe’s lapels with both hands and pulled him toward her
in desperation.
    “Where is little Robert?”
    Philippe held her hand in reassurance. “He’s in his
room. He’s fine, Suzette.”
    Her lungs exhaled a sigh of relief, but her heart
pumped ferociously in her chest.
    “Did—did—” Suzette couldn’t form the words. She
wanted to scream the question, but nothing would come out of