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his vision and he slowly rose to his feet. „You think any whelp of yours could take his place?“ Warm satisfaction washed over him at the feel of her jawbone against the back of his hand. At the muffled sound of her body hitting the wall. At the strangled sob she tried to hide as she crawled into a corner. Stupid bitch. „Just get out.“
    „But it would be your baby, Rob,“ Sue Ann whispered from the corner. „Your son.“
    „Dammit, don’t argue with me.“ He winced as his toe vibrated against her leg bone. „Don’t you ever argue with me.“ Then he straightened, walked over to the bed and laid himself out flat. „Leave me alone.“
    He heard the sound of her dress rustling as she levered herself to her feet. She’d been acceptable once. Even pretty if you squinted hard enough. But the years hadn’t been kind to Sue Ann. She could still cook and clean, true. But the thought of marrying her was enough to make him even sicker to his stomach. And he’d have to do that. Marry her. If he were to have another son, he’d have to be married to the woman that bore him. Nobody would say that Rob Winters didn’t do what was right by his boy. Nobody. He turned his head enough to see her retreating for the door.
    „Sue Ann?“
    „Yes, Rob.“
    „Call Ross and tell her I have the flu. I’m not coming in today.“
    He caught her glance at the empty bottle and narrowed his eyes at her, satisfied to see her moon-face pale even more.
    „Yes, Rob.“ The door creaked as she pushed it open.
    „I left some boots out on the back porch. They need cleanin’.“
    „Yes, Rob.“
    He waited until the door closed. Slowly he rolled over to his stomach and picked up the framed picture from his nightstand. As always the little tow-headed boy with the serious blue eyes looked up at him. And as always Rob Winters closed his eyes and visualized punishing the man that had stolen his son. But today… Today was different. Today the punishment would be infinitely more severe. For before Hutchins had pulled up the car there’d been the smallest shred of hope that Robbie would come home. Now Winters knew Robbie was never coming home.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    CarringtonCollege,
    Chicago
    Monday, March 5
    10:15 a.m.
     
     
    The world claimed Mondays were supposed to be hell, but to Caroline they brought a welcome sense of routine. There had been so few constants in her life. Somehow the budgets, the filing, the constant questions of clueless students all seemed to bolster rather than bore. This was her world. A small one, and some might say insignificant. But it was her world and she thrived here.
    A sad smile tugged at her mouth as her gaze happened upon the framed picture of Eli on her desk. He’d been her first professor here at Carrington. Her first and best. He had the uncanny gift of creating a three-dimensional picture of history, one that lived and breathed, and called out to Caroline from the beginning. She’d been considering many majors that would support her pre-law program. One class with Eli Bradford made her decision a piece of cake.
    She remembered that first week of night school. The unfamiliar feeling of sitting in a classroom again after so many years. She’d been a young mother with a seven-year-old son, a grueling full-time job and so little time to enjoy the only class she’d been able to afford that quarter. Eli had taken notice and asked her to remain behind when their third evening class concluded.
    He’d noticed her scared-rabbit fear at the prospect of remaining alone with him and she could see the compassion in his kind old eyes. „You eat up my class, Miss Stewart,“ he’d said. „I like that.“ Then he’d offered her a job as his secretary, complete with the deep tuition discounts CarringtonCollege provided to employees. He’d been flexible, allowing her to fit her work around her class schedule, allowing her to bring Tom to the office during school holidays and the weekends she worked. Thanks to