“Then I’m going tomorrow night!”

“You know we’re going to Yankton on Saturday?”

“I know!” Courtney exclaimed. “I can’t wait to tell Tony.”

Brent’s smile widened. “I think it’s just the kind of news he needs.”

Tony’s dark eyes widened. “You saw her?”

“I did!” Courtney exclaimed. “She’s talking and… oh, Tony, she’s better!”

Brent reached for Courtney’s hand.

“W-what did they do? What happened?” Tony asked.

Courtney shook her head. “I really don’t know. All I know is that they started some new treatment regimen with new medications. Meredith explained that she thinks—”

“Meredith?” Tony questioned.

“Yes!” Courtney’s blue eyes shone. “As in Meredith Banks.”

Tony leaned forward, his baritone voice sounding more like a growl. “If she’s writing another—”

Courtney reached out and briefly touched Tony’s hand. “She’s not. I know. I didn’t want to trust her at first either, but she swears she isn’t. She said that originally that was her plan, but it changed. Tony, I think we should be happy that Meredith got to Claire. I know that I am.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure I can ever be happy about Meredith Banks. How the hell do Emily and John not know that she’s there?”

“She’s not using her real name. Believe me, if I thought it was all for another of her sensationalized books, I’d report her.” Courtney leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I may have even threatened her a little.”

Tony’s laugh resonated throughout the visitor’s room. “You? Well, good!”

Brent interjected, “Don’t laugh. She’s pretty damn threatening when she wants to be.”

“It was so good to see her. I know Emily thinks that she’s doing what’s best by Claire, but not allowing her to see anyone isn’t what’s best. She can’t even go outside by herself. That’s what Meredith does: she takes her outside after her dinner.”

“You know my thoughts on Emily. I hate that she’s doing that to Claire. How can she think it’s for the best?”

Courtney shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not giving up.”

Tony exhaled. “I’ve read Roach’s reports. Her prognosis sounds good. What do you think?”

“I’ve only seen her once, but I’m so encouraged. Oh, Tony, she’s back! And now if you…” Her words trailed away. “I’m sorry. I just want you to come home.”

Tony grinned. “I promise, I’m ready to come home.” His eyes widened. “Speaking of which, I’m pleased with the pictures of the new house. What do you think?”

Both Brent and Courtney nodded approvingly. “It’s very nice,” Brent said.

“It’s better than nice,” Courtney said. “It’s beautiful and so homey. I’m sure you’re both going to love it. Oh, and Nichol’s room is perfect. I want you all there so badly.”

Tony nodded, but his eyes were sad. Brent knew why, although he didn’t have the heart to tell Courtney, or Tony’s approval to do so. He’d known for a while. He’d prepared the preliminary petition for Tony and Claire’s divorce. It had all begun months ago when Tony asked him to visit alone. As Tony’s lawyer, he could see his client any day of the week, with approval. Truthfully, when Brent arrived, he was caught off-guard.

Prisoners are allowed more privacy when speaking with their attorneys. Therefore, when Brent arrived on a non-visitation day, he was led to a small individual room. Within no time, Tony was brought to him.

“Thanks for coming,” Tony offered.

“Not a problem, it’s your plane.”

Tony grinned, but Brent could see the sadness. It’d been building for some time. It seemed like with each visit, it was more and more difficult to elicit the smiles or even smirks that Tony had once had. “I need you to start working on something for me.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I want you to begin the petition needed to dissolve my marriage.”

For more than a minute, Brent didn’t respond. He stared. He looked around the room. Was this some kind of joke? After everything these two had been through. Finally, Brent leaned forward, and said, “Tony, I know they have you in some kind of counseling here, but I don’t think you’re thinking clearly. I saw the two of you before all this shit went down. I listened to you on the phone with the whole Patricia thing. You love your wife. I’m not sure why you think this is an answer. Is it because of her medical condition?”

“No. Don’t question me—do it.”

It was a tone Brent recognized. One he submitted to over the years, but times had changed. “I am questioning you. I did this once before and you regretted it. I’m not doing it again without some kind of explanation.”

Running his hand through his hair, Tony looked down at the metal table. Brent’s heart ached for the man before him. “I’m not good for her,” Tony said.

“And?”

“And nothing. You’ve read the damn book. Hell, you saw her testimony. You know the things I did.”

Brent couldn’t hide his surprise. “That isn’t an answer.”