Love. Money. Power.

Did Adam have all three over her?

"So, he ended up overpowering that kid who was picking on me?"

"He still does," Pop Pop laughed.

"How so?" Calista asked.

"The child who picked on you was Roger."

Before Calista could respond, Sebastian sauntered in, his eyes on Calista. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I told you I'm fine," Calista said.

"Good morning to you too," Pop Pop said facetiously.

Calista smiled as Sebastian shook his head. "I already said good morning the first time I saw you today, Pop Pop."

The old man harrumphed. "What's your point?"

Calista giggled while Sebastian closed his eyes in frustration before smiling at Pop Pop and saying, "Good morning, Pop Pop."

"Boy, are you going daft? You already said good morning to me earlier."

Calista swallowed her laughter as Pop Pop looked at his watch. "What time is my nurse getting here?"

"I thought she was my nurse," Calista jokingly said.

The old man shrugged. "You snooze. You lose. Besides, you have to go to work and Janelle promised me we'd watch reruns of Murder She Wrote."

"Remind me again why I hired her," Sebastian muttered.

"She's good for Pop Pop," Calista whispered.

Sebastian cleared his throat. "As long she keeps him out of trouble, I won't complain. By the way, there are reporters outside."

Calista paled. "They're outside at this very moment?"

"They're going to want a statement from you. They'll want to know about the accident."

"What should I say?" she asked.

"Stick as close to the truth as possible but stay vague."

Pop Pop chuckled. "I taught him that. It's the best way to deal with reporters."

Calista followed Sebastian to the main exit. "They're outside the gate so we can just avoid them, can't we?"

"Yes, but I don't think that'll make this problem go away. We need to address their questions now. Are you sure you're up for this? I know I'm asking a lot from you."

Calista thought of Sebastian holding her hand in the hospital while she recovered and gave a small smile. How could she possibly decline offering him help when he needed it the most?

"No, I can do this," she said.

They were driven past the gate when a crowd of reporters ganged up on their vehicle. The driver came around to Sebastian's side and opened the door. He exited first and then reached his hand out to Calista. "Let's do this."

She stepped out of the car and heard the clicking of cameras all around her.

"Ms. Dover! Ms. Dover!"

Her name was being shouted at her from all directions. Calista felt a little overwhelmed but she Sebastian's hand steadied her as it settled on her shoulder.

One reporter stepped forward and shoved a microphone in front of her. "There have been rumors that your brother Sebastian Dover has been trying to cover up your involvement with the St. Anthony's massacre. Is this true?"

"We've already discussed this," Sebastian said loudly. "My sister was at St. Anthony's to deliver a donation."

"Isn't that just something you made up?" the reporter asked, his eyes narrowing.

The corner of Sebastian's mouth lifted and she could feel him tense beside her. Before he could speak, she answered.

"To all the victims of St. Anthony's," Calista said loudly, "I apologize. I apologize for surviving and not remembering everything that happened that night." She looked at the reporter who had accused Sebastian of hiding the truth. "I guarantee that when I do remember, I'll be sure to share it with the world. In the meantime, all I can tell you is that I didn't know the man who tragically took so many lives that night. I did write a check to St. Anthony's which is why I was there. I wanted to make a donation. Senseless acts of violence always birth confusion and anger. Many of you still want retribution. Or answers...at the very least. Trust me, so do I. That's why I'm asking all of you to please stop trying to accuse my brother of something he is innocent of. He's one of you. His sister was hurt in that explosion."

Calista felt her eyes watering and she wiped away a tear. "While I was recovering in the hospital, I was so scared. I couldn't remember anything and I was in so much pain. The only person I had to comfort me was my brother. He is the most caring person I know and it breaks my heart when the media tries to portray him as some heartless businessman. Yes, I was in an accident a few days ago. No, I was not driving. No, there were no drugs or alcohol involved. The driver is fine and so am I. I'll try my best to be a better person. To be worthy of being the only St. Anthony's survivor. If I do make a mistake, please don't take it out on my brother. I promise that I'll do my best not just for myself...but for all the victims who died that night."

Sebastian wrapped Calista in a hug and helped her back in the car before turning to the reporters, "My sister's been through a lot this past year. I beg of you...please let her keep her promise."

After Sebastian was in the car and they were driving away from the reporters, he turned to Calista. She was still wiping the tears from her eyes.

"That bit about the promise was brilliant," Sebastian murmured.

"I'm sorry for speaking when I shouldn't have. They just kept accusing you of lying that I couldn't take it anymore. I had to say something. You're a good person, Sebastian. I only want good things to happen to you."

Something flickered in his eye before he asked, "Why? Because I'm your brother?"

Calista shook her head. "I was serious when I said you were the only person who comforted me while I was in the hospital. It meant a lot to me."

Sebastian leaned back into the leather seat of the car and sighed. "I'm your brother. At least I'll try to be."

Calista frowned. She knew Sebastian and Calista Dover were siblings but his tone was that of a resigned man.

"From today forward, I'm your brother and you're my sister. I'll always protect you, Calista. No matter what happens...I'll be here for you. Understand?"

Calista cleared her throat. "Haven't you always been my brother? I don't understand what you mean."

Sebastian looked away from her and stared out the window. "That's okay. It's probably best that you don't."

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