How had Tia been able to mesh such a past with LA, a city full of people who focused on physical beauty, fame and fortune to the exclusion of almost everything else?

The move must’ve been quite a culture shock. And yet she’d not only managed to adjust, she’d managed to flourish all on her own—until the accident.

So what was going to happen to her?

She said she wouldn’t return to Iowa, and he was glad of that. But now she had something else that was huge to overcome. He hated to think of how Hollywood would react to her scarred face.

With a sigh, he navigated to his messages and found the contact for his mother-in-law. He hated to be drawn to Tia’s defense, especially against Shiloh’s parents, but he would not allow them to do anything that could make what she had ahead of her any more difficult.

You’d better not try to help Ray Kouretas.

“What are you doing today?”

Aiyana sounded wide-awake and cheerful, but Seth was still half-asleep. He wasn’t even sure why he’d answered the phone. His eyes could barely focus as he squinted at the light streaming into the living room through the gaps around the window coverings. Apparently, he’d spent the night on the couch. “Just...working, I guess,” he said.

“Did I wake you?” she asked when she heard his raspy voice.

He cleared his throat. “What time is it?”

“You were sleeping. Sorry about that. I thought I’d be safe to call at eleven.”

He pushed himself into a sitting position. It was almost noon? Was Tia still asleep? He didn’t hear her moving around the house... “It’s fine. I was up most of last night, that’s all.”

“Again?”

“Story of my life, right? What’s going on?”

“I was hoping you could come meet your students today.”

He covered a yawn before responding. “Why can’t I do it on Friday, when I speak at the assembly?”

“We need to pick the winners of the art contest you sponsored. We’re announcing them on Friday.”

“Oh. That’s right.” He got to his feet and went over to raise the blinds. As the motor whined and they went up, the room was flooded with light. The weather had cleared; it was nice to see the sun. “Can’t you just take a picture of each one and send it to me?”

“Seth, there’re over one hundred entries. I don’t have the time, and I don’t think a picture will do them justice, anyway.”