"Well, you could do that," Sabrina answered, "but considering they speak Portuguese down there, I'm not sure it's going to help you much."

"Oh."

That evening she had a three-way call with her agent and her editor, and explained her plans. There was no objection. Sabrina had suddenly become a cash cow for both the agent and the publisher, and would only become more of one after the announcement.

It was decided that the story would be presented by her agent. He would also ask the reporters to give her the space she needed, but we all knew that wasn't going to happen. He would break the story the next day, giving them no time to dig it up on their own.

When the call was finally done and all the details had been hammered out, it was close to midnight. And by the time we finished making love, it was almost two. Another late night. Before we fell asleep this time, however, we remembered to turn off our phones.

*****

We broke out of our hotel prison the next day at noon. It was decided that Sabrina's agent would make the announcement about her past from a conference room at the Westin, and he flew up from New York early that morning. Her editor and a lawyer from the publisher would also be attending. Although nothing specific was said, it was assumed that Sabrina would be present at the news conference. As a result, the reporters camped outside our room stampeded to the conference room to get good seats, leaving the hallway empty. Well, almost empty. There were two tabloid photographers who weren't fooled and hung out waiting for a glimpse of the gun-toting mystery author.

But I anticipated that. Mo had called during a break at school asking if there was anything she could do. I explained about the news conference and Sabrina's past—with Sabrina's permission—and mentioned my fear that the news conference wouldn't draw them all away from the door. She arranged for another teacher to watch her students for a while and took a ride down to the Westin. So when Sabrina and I left the room, there she was, entertaining the two wayward photographers with her charm and beauty.

When they saw us and started to follow, she said she had something else to tell them and gently laid her hands on their shoulders. They sat on the floor with a thud and didn't try to move. Mo turned her head toward me and winked. Her day was complete.

We arrived at my father's house two hours later, free and clear of the hordes of reporters. We didn't know when our fortress of solitude would be discovered, but for now the peace was the most glorious thing we had experienced in days.

But even more than the peace, we were looking forward to cracking open Mikey's book and seeing if it held the clue that would finally explain all the lies my family had covered up for decades.