Her sweaty palms slid along the leather steering wheel, leaving a visible sheen behind. She wondered if he noticed. Three more minutes and they’d be there.

“Your hands are shaking.”

“I’m nervous.”

“Me, too.”

Well. There, then. They were off to a good start. And were a couple minutes away from the possibility of all hell breaking loose.

“I’ve been an ass, El. I confused controlling my actions with controlling destiny.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. And couldn’t focus. Which upset her more because Brett was finally doing what she’d always prayed for.

He was talking to her. Not all stilted as though he was choosing every word, but just like a normal person.

She turned the last corner. In about thirty seconds, Brett was going to be facing what could possibly be the toughest challenge of his life. She completely understood that.

She also believed, now, that he was up for it. What she couldn’t believe was him—when he told her he couldn’t do it. He could. He just didn’t know that yet. But he thought she didn’t know because she wasn’t listening to him.

And he was right. She wasn’t listening to him. She was listening to his heart. Brett had taken up residence there. Waiting for her to listen to him. To really see him. So here she was, more than a decade late, but ready to do what he’d been begging her to do since she’d met him—to show him the way to love her back.

They’d arrived. She pulled into the nondescript parking lot and stopped the car.

“What is this place?” he asked, looking around at the small space. Over a hedge was a thrift shop. Farther down the block the computer center where Nora was working. And a street sign.

He was going to figure it out. He knew what businesses the Stand owned and operated. He knew the address.

So she didn’t give him time. Getting out, she hurried around to meet him and approached the outer door to the shelter. She’d sent Lila a text before they’d left Brett’s house.

Someone should be waiting for them inside.

He stopped just short of the door. “Wait. What is this place?” A look of horror crossed his face. “What are we doing here?”

He was too quick for her.

“Brett?” Her voice was calm. “You promised.”

He looked at her. At the door. He knew.

“Please? Just come inside with me.”

He stopped cold. But didn’t run away. “No one knows who you are.” She was giving him that. Taking his hand, she opened the door and pulled him in behind her.

The group that waited for them took even Ella’s breath away. Everyone she’d ever met at the Stand was there. All crammed into the public vestibule. They wore welcoming smiles.

Not one of them, not even Lila, who she didn’t immediately see in the crowd, knew what she and Brett knew.

They were there to give support to a victim. None of them knew they were meeting their founder.

* * *

SEARCHING FOR LILA, needing the other woman to smooth her way, Ella led Brett to the group of people. The managing director always hung back; she knew that.

“Hi. I’m Maddie Bishop.” The slim, young blonde stepped forward, her speech slurred but still discernible. “I live here, and I’m married and have a baby, who I take very good care of.”

“Good, Maddie.” Lynn Bishop, still in her scrubs, stepped forward. “Welcome,” she said. “Lila was unfortunately just called to an emergency, so I’m in charge. This is highly unusual, actually a first, but Ella asked to have some support out here for you, so here we are. I’m Lynn Bishop, and you just met Maddie, whose biggest challenge is to talk to men without fear.”

Others followed suit. Introducing themselves. Telling Brett and Ella just a little bit about their reasons for being at the Stand. Lila had come through in a huge way. She’d understood what Ella had needed—for Brett to see that there was a world where victims lived and thrived and learned to do much more than merely survive.

Not just to know it, but to experience it. To feel it.

As Chloe had done. And Nora and so many women and children before them.

Nora introduced herself. She looked better, less vacant, but still far too thin. Ella told her so, asking about Henry as Nora gave her a hug. The baby was in the nursery being watched over by a grandmotherly resident who hadn’t wanted to come out front.

One by one, people came up to them. Brett greeted each one of them with detached politeness. He was friendly. Charming. But gave no indication that he recognized any of the names he was hearing.

She knew he had to recognize them. Additionally, he knew far more about these people than they were telling him.

It was also clear that none of them had a clue as to who he was. There was no reason why they should. Ella had kept his secret. But he’d had to trust her on that one.

Her heart was in her throat, but Brett didn’t appear to be feeling anything at all as he took in the scene around him as though from a distance.

Scared all over again, Ella wondered if she’d done too much too soon. Exposing him to an overload of emotion when he’d allowed none for so long. He was locking himself away again. She could feel him drifting...

But an overload of emotion was what it was going to take to show him he wasn’t going to suddenly sprout horns because he allowed himself to feel.

And what better place than The Lemonade Stand to take his chance? She felt sick. Her knees were shaking, and she looked for a place to sit down.

And then Sara Havens was there. “This is Sara, Brett,” Ella said, ready to split apart at the seams. “I’ve spent the past couple months getting to know her. Sara, this is my...ex-husband.”

She’d brought him there to out him. To force him to face himself, for his sake, and hers, too, and for the sake of the child she carried.

But mostly because her heart wouldn’t let her leave Brett—even during all of the years they’d spent apart.

“Welcome,” Sara said. “I’ve enjoyed my time with Ella. And I’d like a chance to speak with you, as well. So—” she glanced at Ella “—does your ex-husband have a name?”

Brett looked at Ella. She held his gaze. She was in control—this was her show and the hour wasn’t up—but she was going to leave it up to him how he played it from there.

His gaze bored into hers and she watched as the light dimmed, as moisture started to appear, and then something changed. Something entered Brett’s gaze that she didn’t recognize.

“He does,” Brett said. His chin tightened. His jaw got stiff. “I’m Brett Ackerman.”

Not one person reacted, other than out of the same polite interest he’d given them. They were strangers, there if he cared to join them. If not, they’d move on.

Ella held her breath. He could leave it at that. No one would ever know who’d visited them.

He could continue to hide away in the safe home he’d created for himself someplace deep inside. But it was a home he’d have to live in alone for the rest of his life.

If he turned away now, he was committing himself to a lifetime of solitary confinement.

And leaving her and their child out in the cold... Her panicked thoughts were interrupted when Brett spoke again.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Sara, Lynn, Maddie...everyone. What Ella needs...the reason she’s called us all here together today, is because she needs me to tell you...that... I am the founder of The Lemonade Stand.”

* * *

THE ENTIRE ROOM went silent. Brett could hear every breath he took. Could feel the beating of his heart in his chest.

Sara Havens, for all of the glowing reports he’d read about her ability to handle any situation with grace and calm, gaped at him. Lynn Bishop, a woman he’d pictured as much larger and sterner than the slender, graceful, strawberry blonde she was, was the first to speak.

“You’re our mysterious founder?” She was one of the Stand’s senior employees. Next to Lila McDaniels and Sara.