Fulton had known I was pregnant and desperate when she hired me to work at the Blue Pacific. I had trouble understanding why she was so generous about the whole thing—when my father and my so-called friends were certainly less sympathetic. I didn’t have to wonder for long. My first day at work was the day I met Jasmine. And Collin. He had been four then, the same age Dylan was now. The front office of the bed-and-breakfast was nothing like the rest of the house—done up in Victorian elegance, quiet, serene. It looked like any other office in the city might look, two small oak desks crammed in a too-tight space, each stacked with papers, computer screens sending an odd glow, the smell of stale coffee wafting through the air. The phone was ringing and ringing. Mrs. Fulton looked at the girl behind the desk. “Elizabeth, I just received a call from Jasmine. I don’t think she’s going to make it in today.” “But, Mrs.
