“I understand he liked to travel quite a bit.”
“Alan was a gypsy at heart,” Sidney said with a fond smile. “Only Lynn could have ever hoped to settle him down.”
“And Addie,” Alice said very quietly.
Sidney nodded. His stare on her was intent, but not cautious like Dylan’s often was. It was a little comforting, to know that the psychiatrist didn’t believe she was going to go over the edge at any moment.
“Although, Addie only came to Alan and Lynn thirteen years after they found each other. They wanted to start a family right away, but they couldn’t conceive. All the years of trying with no result nearly crushed Lynn . . . and Alan, in turn. He felt so helpless watching her suffer. She longed to be a mother. For a period of time, she became a shadow of herself. I worried their mutual grief would pry them apart.”
“Oh. That’s terrible.”
“It all came out all right, in the end,” Sidney assured with a smile. “After years of being undecided, they eventually resolved to adopt. They’d begun the process when Lynn discovered she was pregnant. That’s the way of these things sometimes. Once an alternative decision is made, some of the stress goes, and voilà. The couple finds themselves pregnant.”
“They must have been so happy,” she said numbly. She was determinedly trying to ignore a rising rush of air in her ears. But she was curious, too—
“They were ecstatic. I’ve never seen two people so transported. They truly believed they’d been granted a miracle. That sense of being blessed never lessened. It only grew, every day Addie was with them.”
And then it all came crashing down on them one horrible day.
A tremor of emotion went through her. What those poor people must have experienced on the day their daughter was kidnapped. How their panic and fear must have mounted in the ensuing days and weeks. Years. The grief must have been crushing.
“Excuse me,” she said to a passing waiter, who paused. She placed the half-full wineglass she’d been clutching on his tray. “Thank you,” she murmured before he continued on his way.
Her gaze strayed past Sidney’s shoulder, her eyes unerringly finding the tall formidable figure in a black suit across the room holding court among a small circle of three women and two men. She hadn’t spoken to Dylan all evening, and wasn’t sure she wanted to even attempt it with so many curious people at the dinner. Alice swore eyes had been tracking her movements all night. In the next second, she’d accuse herself of being paranoid. She wasn’t being observed, at least not any more so than any of the other counselors who were vying for permanent positions at Durand Enterprises.
Even though Alice knew she shouldn’t be obvious in her glances at Dylan, her eyes just seemed to move in his direction of their own accord. He pulled at her attention like a magnet.
Maybe it was unfair to say that he was holding court at that moment, because that would have implied an attempt or eagerness on his part to be the center of attention to a circle of avid listeners. Alice couldn’t hear what he said, but she recognized his manner; that absolute yet muted sense of confidence. Dylan’s power was such that he never needed to bluster or grandstand.
Even given his focus on his listeners, his gaze suddenly fixed unerringly on her from across the room. Was it her imagination, or did she see something flicker into his eyes? A question? A concern?
“I hope I haven’t upset you with talk about Alan and Lynn,” Sidney said, interrupting her thoughts and nodding in the direction of the departing waiter and her wineglass.
“No, of course not. I’m a little hungry, that’s all. The wine was getting to me on an empty stomach.”
“Yes, I can imagine the physical exercise you get every day at camp would lead to a healthy appetite,” Sidney said, smiling.
“Nothing like chasing after teenagers to increase your metabolism.”
Sidney chuckled. “You know, it would be understandable if the topic of the Durands did leave you unsettled. But I’m not sure it’s advisable to avoid it entirely forever.”
Alice was a little startled that he’d returned to the topic of the Durands. “Yes, I think you’re right. But just because I agree with you doesn’t change the way I feel when I hear about the Durands,” Alice said pointedly. Sidney nodded, and she thought he’d understood her. She was telling him she still felt no personal connection to the child Sidney and Dylan claimed she—Alice—once was. It struck her with a sagging feeling that she was trying awfully hard to convince other people of that fact lately.