This time she would do something. She would do whatever was right, whatever was best. She wouldn’t allow herself to become too emotionally involved, however. After all, he wasn’t her child. If Gloria retained custody, he would still move out of her life again.

But she would make the effort, take the time, see that he was situated well. Then she would get on with her life and her work.

Satisfied, she saved the document and shifted to another to continue her notes for her book. Before she could begin, the phone on her desk rang.

“Yes. Dr. Griffin.”

“Sybill. It took me a great deal of time and trouble to track you down.”

“Mother.” On a long sigh Sybill closed her eyes. “Hello.”

“Would you mind telling me what you’re doing?”

“Not at all. I’m researching a new book. How are you? How’s Father?”

“Please, don’t insult my intelligence. I thought we’d agreed you would stay out of this sordid little affair.”

“No.” As it always did when faced with a family confrontation, Sybill’s stomach pitched. “We agreed that you would prefer I stay out of it. I decided I prefer not to. I’ve seen Seth.”

“I’m not interested in Gloria, or her son.”

“I am. I’m sorry that upsets you.”

“Can you expect it to do otherwise? Your sister has chosen her own life and is no longer a part of mine. I will not be dragged into this.”

“I have no intention of dragging you into this.” Resigned, Sybill reached into her purse and found the small cloisonné box she used to store aspirin. “No one knows who I am. And even if I’m connected to Dr. and Mrs. Walter Griffin, that hardly follows to Gloria and Seth DeLauter.”

“It can be followed, if anyone becomes interested enough to pursue it. You can’t accomplish anything by staying there and interfering in this situation, Sybill. I want you to leave. Go back to New York, or come here to Paris. Perhaps you’ll listen to your father if not to me.”

Sybill washed down the aspirin with water, then dug out antacids. “I’m going to see this through. I’m sorry.”

There was a long silence ripe with temper and frustration. Sybill closed her eyes, left them closed, and waited.

“You were always a joy to me. I never expected this kind of betrayal. I very much regret that I spoke with you about this matter. I wouldn’t have if I’d known you would react so outrageously.”

“He’s a ten-year-old boy, Mother. He’s your grandson.”

“He is nothing to me, or to you. If you continue this, Gloria will make you pay for what you see as kindness.”

“I can handle Gloria.”

There was a laugh now, short and brittle as glass. “So you always believed. And you were always wrong. Please don’t contact me, or your father, about any of this. I’ll expect to hear from you when you’ve come to your senses.”

“Mother—” The dial tone made Sybill wince. Barbara Griffin was a master at having the last word. Very carefully, Sybill set the receiver on the hook. Very deliberately, she swallowed the antacid.