Cherry Hill Park. Washington, D.C. Saturday evening. August 7, 2004.

Even though Henry had left after giving in to the pain of losing his father and everything Robert had done, the festival continued. Most people didn't know the guest of honor had departed to spend the rest of the night on his grandfather's sailboat.

Neal was talking to one of his Caffrey Caravan cousins about the watercolors featured on a set of postcards in her stall when Angela rushed up to say, "Neal, there's someone looking for you. This way." She grabbed his hand and led him toward the campsite.

As they neared a set of recreational vehicles, Mike Chan stepped forward. "Thanks, Angela. I'll take it from here."

Angela looked to Neal for confirmation, and he said, "It's OK. I know Mike. He's a good guy." With that Angela returned to the festivities.

"What's going on?" Neal asked.

"We're relocating Ellen now that your uncle Robert is no longer a threat. She wanted a chance to see you, and we arranged to swing by here. We can't stay long, but it's better than nothing." As they approached, Mike gave a thumbs up to a Marshal standing guard in front of a beige RV.

"If you aren't guarding Ellen, why didn't you go with Angela to find me?" Neal wondered.

"We aren't supposed to attract attention."

"So?"

"Kid, you've got the whitest family I've ever seen. I'd stand out like a sore thumb."

Neal chuckled. "It's that Irish complexion. You either get ghost white or freckles. I lucked out. Maybe it's my dad's genes added to the mix, but at least I can tan."

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Henry's birthday had been a rollercoaster for Noelle Winslow. It had started out fun combined with a layer of worry that he was repressing his grief. Next thing she knew, she was assisting Neal with a plan to bring Henry's emotions to the surface. That had been followed with concern it hadn't worked, then relief to hear it had been successful, mixed with regret that she hadn't been there to offer comfort. She was sad that Henry would be going away sooner than expected, and then happy to run into an old friend.

But for sheer shock value, nothing beat facing the twin sister who'd been in WITSEC the last 22 years.

Meredith stood in an RV that was parked on the outskirts of the Caffrey caravans. She looked at her sister with trepidation, as if unsure of her welcome.

Tongue-tied, Noelle simply stepped forward and hugged her sister. She noticed that Meredith was stiff at first, as if she hadn't been hugged in a long time. "Meredith, it's so good to see you!"

"It's been so long, I hardly even recognize Meredith as my name anymore." She gestured for Noelle to sit down on the small sofa.

"I used to fantasize about what I'd say if I saw you again, and now it's all flown out of my head," Noelle admitted. "I'm still having a hard time believing you're here."

"I heard about Robert," Meredith said, and Noelle nodded.

"The funeral was last weekend. Today's Henry's birthday. He's 28 now."

"I saw him – and Mom and Dad – in the interview with Tom Brokaw. When I heard about the appearance in the Local Devastation concert I recorded it. It was good to watch all three kids… Henry and Angela – hard to believe she's the baby I remember – and…" She trailed off, as if afraid to say his name.

"And Neal. I first spoke with him in January, and we met him in February. Well, it turns out he'd been friends with Henry for years. He's working for the FBI now, and he's turned out to be an amazing young man. So smart, and kind, and… and fun. He's going to Columbia in the fall to get a dual masters in art."

Meredith almost smiled. "Dad must be pleased."

"He couldn't be prouder." Noelle reached for the small bag she carried to find her cell phone. "They're going to be so excited to see you. I have to call them."

"No." Meredith briefly put a hand on Noelle's arm. "I'm only allowed to talk to one family member while I'm here."

"But…" Noelle nearly stuttered in dismay. "Neal is here. You have to see him."

"He's talking to Ellen – you knew her as Kathryn Hill."

"But couldn't you both see him?" Noelle protested.

"I needed to talk to you." Meredith handed her an envelope. It was slightly yellowed with age, and was sealed. It had been pre-printed with the name and return address of a medical clinic.

"You never opened it?" Noelle asked in surprise.

"No. When we went into WITSEC I gave it to the Marshals. At the time I thought I'd let Neal open it when he turned 18, but in the end I chickened out. Hearing we were protected witnesses was such a shock to him, I couldn't add on more. Instead I got drunk." She shrugged. "I did that a lot those days, more and more as his birthday approached. I had a feeling he wouldn't react well to the news, that I should have explained things earlier or found a way to ease him into it more gradually, but it was too late. One of my many failures as a mother."

Noelle's heart ached, and she wished she could have been there as a sounding board for her sister all those years. "Neal still loves you, you know."

"I wish I could believe you." She glanced at the envelope. "I was going to have you open it here, but I've changed my mind. I don't want to know what it says." She looked back up at Noelle. "Open it with Mom. She'll know what to do."

"She's going to be upset she didn't get to see you."

"Not as upset as she'd be if she did see me. I'm not the same person anymore."

Noelle had to agree. Usually after being reunited, within minutes the twins were on the same wavelength, almost reading each other's minds, but that wasn't happening now. Her hand shook slightly as she put the envelope in her bag.

"Have you told him?" Meredith asked.

She shook her head. "No. I promised I wouldn't. It was always your call what to tell him and when." It had been tempting, recently. Her mother had been encouraging her, saying that old promise was meaningless now.

"We were different people when we made that promise. Back then, who would have imagined where we'd be now?"

"Do you want me to tell Neal?" Noelle asked, needing to be certain what Meredith intended.

"Yeah, if… No. No ifs. Do it." She reached down and pulled a brown paper sack out from under the sofa. "And give him this. When he ran away and the Marshals told me he wasn't coming back, they had me get rid of most of his stuff before they moved me. This is one of the few things I kept." She clutched the bag a moment before thrusting it at Noelle. "Tell him… Tell him I know it was bad for him, having me as a mom, but that he was the source of the greatest joy in my life. Even if I didn't show it all the time. After the drinking and everything Vance did when he abducted Neal, I didn't think I deserved happiness. I rejected it, and to a kid like Neal it probably felt like I rejected him."

Noelle looked in the bag. It held a battered – no, make that well-loved – stuffed animal. Not just any stuffed animal, but the brown dog Henry had given Neal a few weeks before the Marshals took them away. She looked back up at her sister. There was so much she wanted to ask, so many memories to share. It might take all night –

"You have to go," Meredith said.

"What?"

"We need to leave soon. And… And I can't contact you anymore. The Marshals made that clear. No more calling each other at Christmas."

"But Robert's gone. Now that he's no longer a threat, why –"

"The Marshals say they'll be watching, to make sure we don't try to break the rules again." She shook her head as Noelle tried to protest. "I know we could find a way around it, but I don't think we should. I need to move on. Trying to hold on to the remnants of my old life is too painful. I can't pretend to be Meredith anymore. I've been Deirdre too long. That's who I am now." She stood and ushered Noelle out. "Goodbye." Then Deirdre looked at Annina. "I'm ready."

Marshal Annina Brandel nodded. "I'll be there in a minute."

The door to the RV closed, and Noelle stared at it in shock, still clutching the brown paper bag.

"You're lucky," said Annina. "Most people never see their family members who've gone into WITSEC. You've got Neal back, plus a visit from your sister."

"Will she be all right?" Noelle asked, still trying to fathom the person with her sister's face who had felt like a stranger.

"As good as she can be," Annina said.

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"Roosevelt Island?" Neal repeated. "That's a lot closer than I'd expected."

"Don't come looking for us," Mike warned. "In a few years, if there are no incidents, the Marshals will let me reach out to you, since I'm not in WITSEC. I can pass some messages back and forth, maybe discreetly let you know where Ellen and I will be."

It was more than Neal would have expected possible, so he didn't complain about the long wait. Ellen looked blissful. Not only was she ecstatic to see Neal, but she and Mike were also wearing shiny new wedding rings. All too soon the Marshal knocked on the door and said it was time they were on their way. Neal hugged the couple goodbye and then waved them off.

He noticed a blue RV followed behind them. And then he saw Noelle, who had been standing on the opposite side of that vehicle. She was staring after it and seemed lost. He walked over and realized her cheeks were shining. "Are you crying?" he asked. At first he thought she was more upset than she'd let on about Henry leaving, and then the implication of the second RV hit him. "Was that…?"

"Meredith," she confirmed with a sniffle.

It was a shock to realize she'd been right here. So close, and yet no contact. Not even an attempt. She could have at least looked out and waved goodbye when they pulled away. Presumably she knew Ellen was in the next RV and that Neal had been talking to her. It took a moment before he gathered his thoughts enough to ask, "How is she?" Why didn't she want to talk to me?

"She looks the same. Well, she looks like a brunette me, that is. But she's a stranger now." That didn't really answer Neal's question, but Noelle started to cry and when he reached out to her, she latched onto him and shook as a storm of tears soaked his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said a few minutes later. "I'm sorry about the tears. I should be sorry you couldn't talk to her, but I'm not. It hurt too much." She wiped her eyes. "How was Ellen?"

"She's great," Neal said, feeling somewhat guilty that his visit had been so much more positive. What had Meredith said that had her so upset? He led Noelle toward the festival and picked up a bottle of water. "Here."

"Do you think I shed so many tears I'm dehydrated?" she asked, managing a small smile as she opened the bottle. She took a sip. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"Do you wanna find Dor and Dressa and head back to their house?"

"Yes, please."

She said little when they found his grandparents and walked toward the car. Irene made a comment about how Henry was in excellent hands, and Noelle let them think that her silence was a reaction to her son leaving. Noelle and Neal shared the backseat of the car. As Edmund drove, Noelle clutched a brown paper bag as if her life depended on it. Minutes away from the house she seemed to notice Neal's questioning gaze. "Oh. This is for you." She handed it to him. "Your… she kept it, and wanted you to have it."

He looked inside the bag, but under the street lights couldn't make out what it held. It wasn't until they were in the garage that he saw what it contained. "Henry!" he said in surprise.

"Where?" asked Irene, looking around for her other grandson. "Isn't he on Graham's sailboat?"

Neal shook his head and held up the stuffed animal. "I named it after Henry when I was a little kid. I'd told Noelle about it a few weeks ago and we made a pact never to tell him."

"Good idea," said Irene. But as they entered the house she glanced pointedly at Noelle. She didn't need to say anything; it was obvious she wanted to know how her daughter had gotten Neal's childhood toy. Neal wanted to know more about that, too.

"I'm going to call Graham to find out his schedule," Noelle said. "I'd like to stop by tonight or first thing in the morning to see Henry off. Neal, would you mind packing Henry's things? Then I can drop off his suitcase when I go."

"No problem," said Neal.

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Henry hadn't brought a lot of stuff with him, since he'd only planned to stay a few days. Packing took a matter of minutes. Then worry set in.

What had Meredith said? Noelle had mentioned something about how she couldn't talk to Neal. Was that because they had limited time? If so, why hadn't she at least opened a damn window to say hello to her son before the RV pulled away? Meredith wasn't stupid. She could have figured out a way to speak with Neal if she wanted to.

He considered any number of possibilities and then decided to take the suitcase downstairs and simply ask his questions. To his surprise, the kitchen and living room were both dark. He didn't hear any voices at all, but a quick investigation showed a light spilling out from under the door of Edmund's study. The door was closed.

OK. They had something to talk about and they wanted privacy. Given the events of this evening, the topic was almost certainly Henry or Meredith. Whatever it was, Neal wanted to hear. He'd had enough of secrets as a kid, and now he regretted that he hadn't pushed for answers then when things didn't add up.

Last night Henry mentioned that the twins had sometimes snuck out of their room, climbing up a gable to grab the branches of a nearby tree. Neal had already viewed that route with a cat burglar's eye, out of habit and competitiveness. If they could do it, he was sure he could. Edmund's study was right beneath that tree, and on mild evenings like this one he usually opened the room's window to let in a breeze.

In no time Neal was in the tree and was sitting on the lower branches. Shielded by the leaves he couldn't see in the window, but he was at the perfect angle to eavesdrop.

Noelle's voice was clearest. Neal guessed she was sitting on the window seat. "I hate to admit it, but she was right. No matter how much she resembles my sister, she isn't Meredith anymore. Talking to her was spooky. She seemed… I'd call it empty. I don't think she smiled once the whole time. Although I suppose she doesn't have much to smile about. At first I was insisting that she should talk to Neal, but by the time she told me to leave I thought it might have been for the best that he was spared the experience. It felt like she'd encased herself in ice, and that she's decided not to let herself feel things anymore. It gives me the chills just remembering."

"What else did she say?" Irene's voice was further away, but being an actress had taught her great projection. Neal could hear every word.

"She gave me this."

"Ah," said Irene. "This brings back memories. She never opened it?"

"No, and she decided at the last minute she didn't want to know what it says." Noelle paused. "Will you open it, Mom? I don't think I have the nerve."

"Of course, honeybunch. Not that I need to. I know what it says."

"Did the doctors tell you?" Noelle asked.

Doctors. Was Meredith sick?

"No, but it was obvious," Irene said.

"Nonsense," said Edmund. "Just because you want something to be the answer, that doesn't change the facts. This is medical science."

"This is family, and love. I look with my heart and know the answer," Irene argued.

Edmund made a huff of impatience. "Regardless, we'll tell the boy what it says."

"On that we agree," Irene said. "He has a right to know."

Noelle sighed. "Meredith freed me from my old promise not to tell. So, yes, before Neal goes back to New York I'll… Or rather, we'll tell him. I'd like you to be there."

Now Neal felt a twinge of guilt for eavesdropping. They weren't planning to keep him in the dark.

"Meredith should have been the one to tell him," Edmund said.

Yeah, Neal agreed. There's a whole lot she should have told me.

"Yes," Noelle said, "she made some mistakes, even though I honestly think she meant well. But that flight instinct of hers, it leads to avoidance. And as she said this evening, when we started out we had no idea of the things that would happen. We always assumed… Mom?"

"I knew it!" said Irene.

"Let me see," Noelle said. There was a pause, followed by, "Oh. Oh, Mom." It sounded like she was at a loss for words.

"For the love of God," said Edmund. "Whatever it says, there's no need for all this fuss. It doesn't change anything."

"How can you say that?" asked Irene.

"No, Mom, he's right. We love Neal. That's the ultimate truth here. No piece of paper can ever change those feelings."

Neal slipped back up to his room. He kicked off his shoes and sat on one of the beds, leaning against the pillows as he stared out the window.

A sheet of paper from a doctor. A diagnosis? But it was something they recognized, and was therefore from before Meredith had gone into WITSEC. What kind of diagnosis would a person get and decide not to look at for 22 years? In fact, it sounded like Meredith had decided to leave without ever knowing what it said.

It hit him for a moment that he was thinking of her as Meredith now, instead of Mom. He was distancing himself, much the same way Henry had when he started calling his father Robert.

He picked up the stuffed animal he'd named for his cousin. It was scruffy and one ear was loose, but it was clean. What did she mean by leaving this for him? It was nice that she'd kept it, right? But to give it to him now… Was this some kind of final goodbye? Did it indicate she thought he'd need the comfort he used to get from the toy?

He heard a knock on his door, and had no idea how much time had gone by. "Neal?" It was Irene's voice.

"Yeah. Come in." He sat up straighter as his grandmother entered the room.

"That's Henry?" she asked. She sat beside Neal and he handed her the dog. "I think I remember this fella," she said as she looked it over. Then she handed it back to Neal. "How are you?"

He didn't know what to say, so he shrugged and made a grumbling sound.

"Not a happy bear," Irene declared. "Well, we're both justifiably grumpy. I'm sure we could have gotten around that silly restraint of the Marshals that Meredith could only see one person."

"Right!" Neal hopped off the bed. "What was she thinking?"

"She had an important message for Noelle, and I suspect that blinded her to everything else. And I think she's lost the adventurous spirit we still have. In fact, Noelle says she's so different in personality we would have found it painful to talk to her. Noelle still seems shaken by it."

"Is she OK?" Neal asked.

"Noelle will be her usual magnificent self soon enough. I think seeing Henry in the morning and then spending the day with the two of us will do wonders for her. Meredith, on the other hand…" she shrugged. "If she's really the stranger Noelle described, then I don't know what to say."

"What was the message you mentioned?" Neal asked.

"That's for Noelle to share, since Meredith entrusted her with it."

"More secrets?" Neal asked, not managing to keep all the bitterness out of his voice.

"There were too many secrets growing up, I suppose. I'm sure Meredith thought she was protecting you."

"And now Noelle is?"

Irene stood and put an arm around him. "No, dear boy. Give her a day or two to get used to what she learned and to decide how to tell you. Meredith gave her a challenging script, and it will take a little time to set up the scene correctly. You deserve the right setting for this. You both do. Can you trust me and be patient a little longer?"

How could he not trust her, when love for him shone in her eyes? But to be clear how much this was asking of him, he said, "Make sure she tells me before I leave for New York, or I start calling you Granny instead of Dressa."

"Well, really. There's no need to be rude." She pulled him close and kissed his cheek. "Behave."

When she left, he closed the door and called Peter.

"Hey, how was the party?" Peter asked. There was background noise, probably a baseball game on TV.

Neal described the festival atmosphere, and how they'd gotten Henry to show the pain he was feeling. "He's on the Executive Decision now, and they plan to go sailing for a while."

"Poor kid," Peter said, "but it's good that Graham's there for him. You're going to miss him, though."

"Yeah, especially… Listen, the reason I called is about Monday. We said we'd meet at the FBI headquarters, but can we go someplace a little more private?"

"My hotel would be best. We can... Hold on. El, can you…? Sorry about that. Satchmo was begging for his walk, and El's taking him out." He told Neal the name of the hotel where he'd be staying. "Wait for me in the lobby. We can go to the bar, or up to my room if you want."

"Thanks, Peter."

"You know, we can talk now. Whatever's bothering you, it doesn't need to wait till Monday."

"That's the problem. I don't know what it is yet. The Marshals brought my mother to the party this evening, just long enough to tell Noelle something. She seems pretty shaken up by it. It must be a big deal, because apparently she needs a day or so to work up to telling me. I've extracted a promise that I'll get the truth before I leave."

"And Noelle's a strong woman. She wouldn't be shaken up by something minor."

"Exactly."

"Well, the offer stands. You can call me before Monday if you want. Either way, I'll be at the hotel lobby at 4pm, ready to listen to whatever it is."

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Sunday morning Irene and Noelle went to see Henry off, and Edmund took Neal back to Cherry Hill Park. A few groups planned to stay another day, but most were packing up to head to their next venue. Edmund was there as host to say farewell, and many people from the older generation wanted to chat and offer invitations for Edmund and his family to catch up with the caravans next summer. Members of the younger generation wanted to talk to Neal about Urban Legend, and he received a few offers to join the caravan if he ever wanted to escape city life. It was nearly 1pm when Edmund took Neal to a restaurant in downtown Washington, where they met Irene and Noelle.

"How's Henry?" Neal asked.

"He has a long way to go," Irene said, "but it's a journey he was meant to take. He'll be stronger when it's over."

"That's kind of profound," Neal said.

"It's also a line from one of her movies," Noelle added.

"That doesn't make it any less true," Irene countered. They paused to tell the waiter their orders, and then she said, "We thought after lunch we'd go to the National Gallery of Art. We'd like to see the art through your eyes, Neal. And for the evening Noelle made reservations at the Carlyle Club. They have dinner and dancing."

Neal nodded. It sounded like an enjoyable day, but it differed from what Noelle had originally told him. The museum visit had been planned for the next day. "What's on the agenda for Monday?"

Irene slid a glance toward Noelle. "We're working on that."

He guessed that meant the big revelation – whatever it was – would happen tomorrow. As the day went on, he was torn between being glad he was braced for something shocking, and regretting that he had the distraction of that worry. At the National Gallery, for instance, he didn't get as much pleasure as he usually did from the paintings.

As he described what he knew of the painters and their techniques, he stopped the longest at Raphael's St. George and the Dragon. There was another painting by Raphael featuring St. George at the Louvre in Paris, but this version had been Kate Moreau's favorite. When Neal hadn't been able to find her, he'd seriously considered stealing this painting and replacing it with a forgery, just to get her attention. He'd even gone so far as to ask Mozzie to procure the museum schematics and security information.

His life had certainly taken a sharp turn from those days. Now Neal described the painting with all the admiration it deserved, but he was grateful a chance encounter with Peter had sent him down a different path.

Later at the Carlyle Club he again reflected on how his life had changed. This time last year he never would have imagined having a relationship with his grandparents, much less celebrating their wedding anniversary with them. He admired Dor and Dressa as they danced to "The Embassy Waltz" from My Fair Lady – an appropriate choice for an ambassador, he supposed. He took a spin around the floor with his grandmother to "Let's Face the Music and Dance," while Noelle danced with her father. Neal couldn't help wondering if the song selection had another meaning. Was he supposed to face the music on Monday?

During the meal Noelle became more talkative than she'd been all day, until her mother put a hand over hers and said, "It's all right, dear. Don't be afraid." It reminded Neal of something Noelle had said when he'd asked about his mother in the spring. She had described Meredith as being silent and hiding when she was afraid, whereas Noelle became more talkative in the face of fear.

What was she afraid of?

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Peter had to give Annina Brandel kudos for making things as painless as possible for him at the U.S. Marshals' D.C. office. She'd clearly filled out the right forms, because when he arrived for his appointment he was immediately ushered inside to see Neal's file. He found the birth certificate and was allowed to make a copy. It wasn't until he was putting the original back in the file that he took the time to read through it.

Sure enough, Neal George Bennett had been born in Baltimore. Everything looked as expected. Then Peter did a double take. Had he read that correctly? He reviewed a portion more carefully. Yes, that's what it said. Did Neal know?

For a moment he stared at the document, wondering if he should still give the copy to Neal. Then he checked his watch. Not even 8am yet. Most people would object to being called this early. He decided he'd contact Noelle over his lunch break. She could tell him what this meant.

Then he went to the Bureau for a morning of management training. His plans to call Noelle were derailed when he was invited into Philip Kramer's office to discuss a case.

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

Monday after a late breakfast, Edmund, Irene, and Noelle took Neal to an orchard outside of town. They told him it had been a favorite destination of Meredith's. She had loved making dishes featuring fruits from this orchard.

There were baskets at the entrance. Visitors could pick fruit that was in season, and pay for it on their way out. There was also a coffee shop that served cider and pies and other fruit-based items.

For a while they wandered the orchard, finally ending up at a gazebo in the center of the property. Noelle sat down on a bench, as did her mother. Neal and Edmund leaned against the gazebo railing. Certain that the long-awaited revelation was coming, Neal forced himself to remain still rather than pacing.

Noelle started out by sharing a message from Meredith, saying that Neal had been the greatest source of her happiness. She added a comment about Meredith's awareness that her feeling of unworthiness had damaged her relationship with Neal, because she had found it difficult to accept the happiness he brought her. Then she took a deep breath and said, "We've mentioned the difficulties Meredith had, the miscarriages, and how she went to a fertility clinic in England."

Neal nodded. At last they were getting to health-related issues and the mysterious doctor's note.

When Noelle seemed tongue-tied, Edmund faced Neal and said, "As you can surmise from the miscarriages, Meredith didn't have a problem getting pregnant. The issue was carrying a baby to term. The clinic in England had just announced their success with a test tube baby. The U.S. wasn't as far along in that technology yet. That's why we went out of the country."

"I was a test tube baby?" Neal asked.

"Yes," Noelle said. "And the clinic wouldn't implant you in Meredith, because they said it was too high-risk. So I agreed to act as a surrogate."

"That's why I was born in Baltimore. And what was Julia's part in this? She said she was there when I was born."

"She'd dropped by the house to keep me company while Mom and Meredith were doing some shopping. I went into labor and Julia drove me to the hospital."

"Not Robert?" Neal asked.

Noelle shook her head. "You weren't his child. He wasn't particularly interested in your birth. Anyway, Meredith and Mom were in town in anticipation of the big event, and they were in the delivery room with me. They stayed with us in Baltimore until you were six weeks old, and then they took you back to D.C."

Neal took a moment to absorb that, and then asked, "Did Henry know?"

"He was only two and a half when you were born," Noelle said. "Too young to understand what was going on, and too young to remember."

"I worried he might be jealous," Irene added, "of all the attention you were taking away from him, but it was never an issue. The truth was, with me and the twins, there were plenty of opportunities to dote on both of you. He seemed quite fascinated with you, actually. I always thought the two of you bonded during that time."

"When the Marshals took you away we weren't supposed to talk about you, so I didn't mention it when Henry was growing up. And then when it was apparent Meredith hadn't told you… Well, it didn't seem right to tell anyone until you knew. Except, I'd made a promise to Meredith." Noelle stood up and walked over to the railing where Neal stood, and clasped one of his hands. "I imagine things have changed over the years, but at that time it was the birth mother's name that went on the birth certificate. So I was listed as your mother. But of course you belonged to James and Meredith. At the clinic before the procedure I promised that I'd give up all rights to you, and that it would be up to Meredith if and when to tell you about the surrogacy."

Neal took a moment to gather his thoughts and then said, "Saturday she gave you permission to tell me."

"Mom had been pushing me for a while now to tell you, and I was working my way up to it. I'm glad I was released from the promise. That made it easier." She squeezed his hand. "There is one more piece, however. There's something I didn't know myself until after I talked to Meredith."

Neal held his breath as Noelle gathered her nerve.

"Go on, then," said Edmund impatiently.

Noelle raised a brow. "This isn't easy, Dad."

"Easy. When is life easy?" Edmund asked. "It's simple enough. The doctors weren't really sure why Meredith's pregnancies weren't successful, while Noelle had smooth sailing carrying Henry. They thought it might be hormonal, or maybe something to do with an infection she'd had when she was a teenager."

It flashed through Neal's mind that they might be worried about something genetic Meredith had passed along. What if the concern wasn't about Meredith's health, but about his own? Maybe he couldn't or shouldn't have kids himself?

Picking up the story again, Noelle said, "To be safe, the doctors took eggs from both of us. There were two embryos at first, one from one of Meredith's eggs, and the other from one of mine. If both had been viable, they both would have been implanted. But shortly before it was time, one of the embryos died."

"Which one?" Neal asked.

"We decided we didn't want to know. You were going to be Meredith's son and it shouldn't make any difference who was the egg donor. The doctors insisted on putting the information in an envelope that we could open if we ever needed to know. That envelope went to the Marshals with your birth certificate and other documents. On Saturday Meredith gave that envelope to me. That night Mom opened it and…" Noelle squeezed his hand again. "You're mine."

"Wow," said Neal. He hadn't seen that coming. He'd been expecting bad news. This was good. It was good, wasn't it? He turned it around in his head. Yeah, once he got used to it, he thought it would be good.

"Not that it makes a difference," Edmund said. "Meredith was your mother. She raised you and loved you as her son. As best she could."

"But I was certain you and Henry were brothers," Irene added.

Henry. "Did you tell him, before the Executive Decision left?"

"It was tempting," said Noelle, "but I thought you should be told first. I also think he'll appreciate the news more once he's had time to work through the issues he's facing now."

"Can I be the one to tell him?" Neal asked.

"If you like."

"At Christmas," Irene suggested. "What better gift to give Henry, than to let him know he has a brother?"

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

After a late lunch, Neal had packed his things and decided he'd go to Peter's hotel early. Sitting in the lobby for a while would give him a chance to think things through. Noelle offered to drive him, saying she needed to go back to Baltimore and the hotel was on her way. They talked mostly about Henry.

When she pulled in front of the hotel a valet came to her door. She glanced at Neal. "Last chance for questions. Anything you didn't want to ask in front of my parents?"

Was it the psychologist or the mom in her that had guessed? "They've got a bar."

Noelle handed her keys to the valet and followed Neal to the bar. With a long drive in front of her, she ordered a non-alcoholic drink and waited for Neal to kick off the discussion.

He ordered a glass of wine and after it arrived he looked around the bar. Mostly empty, but still best not to refer directly to WITSEC in a public setting like this. "When you learned that we had to leave D.C., there was an argument about whether I should go with Meredith or with my Uncle David."

"Either way, it broke my heart to see you go. I so wanted to keep you, but that simply wasn't an option. Your father had put you at risk and my role in your birth didn't change that. After my promise to Meredith, I was determined to prove I was keeping my side of the bargain. I insisted that you were hers and belonged with her."

"You were being stubborn and emotional," Neal noted. "I know some people who would describe me the same way."

"Poor David had no idea why I wasn't open to any arguments. He'd been overseas during the pregnancy and we hadn't told him I acted as a surrogate, much less…" She shrugged. "He'd come back around the time of your christening and brought Paige with him. It was the first time we'd met her, and we confused her horribly. We introduced Meredith as your mother and yet I was the one nursing –"

"Whoa," said Neal. "Not ready to go there yet. Or maybe ever. Can we skip that part?"

Noelle smiled indulgently. "Needless to say, it's hard enough telling identical twins apart when they aren't both acting like mothers to the same infant."

"And David didn't notice?"

"Normally he would have, but Paige did a marvelous job of distracting and befuddling him. He'd proposed to her shortly before you were born, and Mom convinced them to get married while we were all gathered in D.C. Paige's family made a whirlwind visit for the wedding and dealing with in-laws really threw him for a loop."

Neal considered the implications. "Did you ever tell them?"

"No. Surprisingly few people knew I acted as a surrogate. I was finishing up my PhD, so people at the university who knew I was pregnant didn't realize that soon after I graduated the baby simply disappeared. Once I started to show, I stopped going to Win-Win, at Robert's request. He didn't entirely approve and in the end it was easier not having to explain that the baby wasn't his. His parents knew, of course, and his siblings. I don't think his brothers approved, either, and that was rather awkward. I preferred avoiding them, and for a few months I made excuses to skip Win-Win gatherings. Not only was I busy finishing my degree, but I also made a lot of trips to D.C. to visit my supposedly pregnant sister."

"Good thing Henry was too young to understand what was going on. I can imagine all the questions he would have had."

"You're right. We never would have gotten away with keeping things as quiet as we did…" She looked across the room. "Aren't you supposed to meet Peter at 4:00?"

Neal saw Peter and checked his watch. It was only 2:30. "That was the plan." He waved Peter over. "Short day?"

Peter sat down and ordered a beer. "More like a surprising day. I was debating whether to call and see if you could meet earlier. There's a case I'd like to run by you."

Noelle reached for her purse. "I should get out of your way, then."

"No, not yet." Peter put a file folder on the table. "There's something I need to run by you, too. A while back, when Neal mentioned how surprised he was that he was born in Baltimore, I decided to get him his original birth certificate. I thought it would answer some of his questions, but instead it seems to raise more. You see, I stopped by the Marshals' office this morning to get a copy of the document. It's in here." He slid the folder across the table to Noelle.

She opened the folder. Then she closed it, reached into her purse, and put on reading glasses. After giving both men a glance meant to suppress any comment on the glasses, she read the birth certificate. "May I keep it? I've often wished I'd kept a copy."

"Yeah." Peter slid a glance at Neal. "Do you know what it says?"

"I found out today. I'm still getting used to it. It was a shock, to say the least."

"How…?" Peter looked uncomfortable and drank some beer to hide his reaction.

"You didn't know about my torrid affair with my brother-in-law?" Noelle teased.

Peter nearly choked on the beer.

Neal patted him on the back. "I didn't tell you Mozzie's theory that I'm Henry's clone?"

Noelle stood. "I should be on my way. It's up to you what to tell Peter and who else you think should be told, but do try to keep it quiet until Henry knows."

Neal stood up, too, and embraced her. "I think just Peter and El for now," he said.

"I'll miss you, sweetheart. If you have any more questions, or just want to talk, I hope you'll call. I promise I won't hover." With a quick kiss on his cheek, Noelle said goodbye and left.

Peter suggested they go up to his room, not only to hear the reason Noelle was listed as Neal's mother, but also for privacy to talk about the case that he'd mentioned.

The hotel room had a small desk, and Neal sat in the desk chair and put his feet up on the bed while Peter shed his suit jacket and gun holster.

Pushing Neal's feet out of the way, Peter sat on the bed. "No more kidding around. What's going on with Noelle and your birth certificate?"

For a moment Neal considered fabricating a wild story to see how long he could keep it spinning before Peter guessed, but he decided against it. He went straight into the truth.

"Huh," said Peter. He stared in the distance a moment and then asked, "Your mom is dating my brother?"

"I'm not really to the point of calling her Mom. My grandfather had a good point. Meredith's the one who raised me. I knew her as my mother all my life. I love Noelle, but I'm still getting to know her."

"Right. But I talked to Joe this weekend. He and Noelle are dating again, and he seems determined to make things work this time. Us Burkes don't give up easily. I wouldn't be surprised if this time next year, you're my nephew."

"That makes Henry your nephew, too." Neal smiled, both at Peter's consternation and at the idea of having a brother. The shock was wearing off, and joy replaced it.

"Yeah. Give me time to get used to the idea of one nephew, first."

"You can tell Elizabeth about all of this, of course, but don't let it go any further. And even if I stop thinking of Meredith as my mother, I can't go around calling Noelle Mom, not if I'm trying to keep my dad's enemies from figuring out I was Neal Bennett." Neal's bubble of joy shrank as he considered the implications. "In fact, we both need to make sure we think and speak of Noelle as my aunt, and Henry as my cousin, so we don't risk slipping up in public." He decided it was time to change the subject. "You said there was a case?"

"This one is right up your alley," Peter promised. "It hasn't hit the media yet, but we can't keep it quiet much longer. Last night someone broke into the National Gallery and stole a painting."

"Which one?"

"A Raphael. St. George and the Dragon."

Neal's eyes widened.

"When D.C. Art Crimes ran the names of people who'd been in the museum recently, yours popped up."

A wariness came over Neal. "I wasn't casing it, Peter."

Peter looked surprised. "Of course not. But you were there the day before the theft. Did you notice anyone acting suspiciously? Or see anything that would give us a clue to how they got in and out without setting off the alarms?"

How far had they come that Peter instantly dismissed the idea that Neal had stolen the painting? Neal felt a glow of pride, even as he admitted, "I got too distracted wondering about the big secret my family was keeping from me, and I didn't pay as much attention as I normally would have. However…" He paused as he considered how best to explain what he knew. "Hypothetically…"

Peter groaned.

"When I gave my confession for immunity, we only talked about crimes I had committed. We didn't cover the ones I had planned. If you hadn't recruited me, I was going to make a forgery of that painting and steal the original." He shrugged. "It was Kate's favorite."

"And you were desperate to get in contact with Kate. Did you already know how you were going to get it out of the museum?"

"There was a security guard with a gambling problem who was willing to share information for a price. He was going to provide the building plans and tell us the exact time when they were going to shut down the security system for an hour to upgrade the software to the newest version. They were adding extra guards for that evening, and I was going to slip in as one of those guards."

Peter took a sharp breath. "What's the name of the security guard?"

"I don't know. I wasn't working that angle." He grinned. "Remember how you said you didn't want to use Mozzie for any more cases?"

"I'm sure I'll regret this, but give him a call. The Bureau can probably discover which guard has a habit of gambling, but if Mozzie can tell us it saves time and impresses my old mentor. I started out as a probie on Philip Kramer's team, and they're working this case. I want him to see the value you bring to my team. It could be good for your career with the FBI down the road."

"Can we visit the crime scene?" Neal asked. "My experience on the other side of the law could come in handy."

"I'm sure it would. I'll ask." There was a pause and then Peter added, "This is when you're supposed to be calling Mozzie."

"Oh, sorry, got distracted a moment." Neal gestured around the room. "I was just thinking, this all started in a hotel room. You kicked off a conversation about how I should give up crime and work for you when we were in that hotel in St. Louis."

"You were supposed to be part of a museum heist, and instead you helped me prevent it." Peter smiled. "Do you remember talking to El on the phone when we were there? You were running a pretty high fever so I wasn't sure if you knew what you were saying."

"I think I remember most of it."

"When I talked to her later, she told me that you trusted me to find the real you, the person hidden under the slick con man veneer."

Neal nodded. "Yeah, it was something about how FBI agents find people, and how I'd hidden who I was so deeply that I thought I needed help finding myself. I wanted to find the real me but was also scared of being found."

"Here you are. Valued member of my team. Soon-to-be college student. Henry's half-brother. Probably going to be my nephew. Not too scary after all."

"Not too scary," Neal agreed. "Good job, Agent Burke. Now how about we find that thief?"

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

On Friday August 13, Peter's management meetings finished by noon, and he picked up a sandwich to eat on the train to New York. He still couldn't believe that Philip Kramer had denied both Peter and Neal access to the crime scene.

Sure, the case belonged to the D.C. team and they knew their jobs, but Neal had provided important information. What was the harm in letting them look around? He hadn't remembered Phil as being so concerned about protecting his turf.

Yesterday when Tricia updated Peter on the team and their cases, she mentioned that Neal planned to leave early this afternoon. He'd put in overtime the last few days, and she'd approved the request for comp time. She hadn't asked what he had planned.

On the off chance of catching him, Peter went directly to Riverside Drive from the train station. He got there in time to see a somber Neal escort June into the mansion.

Well, at least he was home. Peter rang the bell and Neal got to the door ahead of the maid. "Peter, this is a surprise. Come in."

"I won't stay if this is a bad time," Peter said.

"No, it's fine. Today is June and Byron's wedding anniversary. We went to the cemetery to leave a bouquet of the flowers he used to give June. Now she wants to be alone for a while. You can come up to my loft if you want."

Peter pushed his suitcase out of the way and then followed Neal upstairs.

"Beer?" Neal asked as they walked into the loft. "I picked up your favorite brand."

"Yeah, I'll take one." Peter took a seat at the dining table and looked around the room. There was a stuffed animal on the bookshelves – a brown dog. That was new. And some kind of ornate wooden box that normally sat on the shelves was instead on the coffee table. "How's June?"

"A little low today, but better than she was doing after Father's Day." Neal handed Peter a bottle of beer and sat down with a glass of wine. "Did you know she's been buying up shares of Masterson Music?"

"No. I guess the stock is a bargain right now."

"That's right. She has enough now that she has a seat on the board, and she's influencing their reorganization. It's a project she can put her heart into, and I think that's helping her cope with losing Byron. I introduced her to Samantha Weston and Cassie Blanca this week. They described their experiences with Masterson, and that seems to have inspired all sorts of schemes. June's working to get their musical careers back on track while planning how to help out others who were harmed by the company's business practices."

"A happy ending," Peter said. "You deserve a lot of the credit for that."

"I couldn't have done it without you," Neal said. "You and the Bureau brought the sting together."

"Not calling it a con anymore."

"Nope. My cons didn't end in people being arrested."

"Now that the sting is over, you don't be using that Neal Legend ID," Peter said.

"Right. You want me to turn over the ID." Neal started to stand.

"No, keep it," Peter said.

"Are you serious?"

"I thought it might help control your flight instinct, if you knew you still had that ID as a means to escape. It's in our systems now, so you can't use it to escape the FBI, but we did a decent job of making people think Neal Legend was a distant cousin and not the son of James Bennett. If you ever need to hide out from your father's enemies or from Vincent Adler for a few days, the Legend ID should work."

"Just for a few days?"

"Yeah. I'd track the ID if you used it and find a way to help you out. I just thought, given the resources they have, it seemed only fair for you to keep a trick up your sleeve."

"Thanks, Peter."

"The other reason I stopped by was to apologize again. I still can't believe Kramer shut us out of the case after you provided that lead. You pointed out an important hole in the museum's security."

"Nothing in the news about finding the painting or the thief yet," Neal noted.

"Unfortunately the guard Mozzie named isn't with the museum anymore. We're still in the dark about the thief's identity and how he managed the crime. But we'll get him."

"You mean Kramer will get him."

"The Bureau will. We're all a team. Except when we're in a turf war." Peter gestured toward the coffee table. "Is there a story behind the box?"

Neal explained that Byron had used it to keep a record of his milestones and successes as he gave up a life of crime. "He thought I could use something similar, so he left it to me. Instead of scraps of paper, I've been creating origami to represent the things I want to remember." He walked over and picked up a nearly complete origami dog in brown paper. "This is the one I'm adding next."

"Any relation to the stuffed animal on your shelves?" Peter asked.

"Good eye. Yeah. Meredith gave it to Noelle when they talked. It's the only memento I have from my childhood."

"What's the memory you're adding to the box?"

"Finding out who I really am, and being OK with it."

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

Wednesday, August 18, Peter was standing in front of the team in the large conference room as he led the morning briefing. "The last item on our agenda is Tuesday Tails. Yesterday was Diana's first chance to participate, and things went somewhat differently this time. At Neal's request, I lifted the ban on going more than two miles from the office." Seeing Neal's grin he added, "That was a one-time exception for this week only. Diana, give us the readout."

"It wasn't like Quantico," Diana said. "And I doubt most suspects would stop and wave at me or sit beside me on the subway."

Neal shrugged. "Peter told me to go easy on you the first time. Next time the training wheels come off."

"Bring it," Diana challenged. "And I didn't need training wheels this time."

Team members laughed and called out support for Diana or bets that she'd regret her rash words. Peter smiled in satisfaction. It was good to see the team rallying around the newest member. "And once you got off the subway?" he prompted.

"Soon we were in the middle of a college campus. Neal melted into a group of students, but since it's still summer those weren't big groups, and most of them weren't wearing suits."

"But you at least ditched the hat?" Jones asked.

"I didn't want to make it too easy," Neal confirmed.

"Quiet," Tricia said. "Let Diana finish."

"We went through a student center and an administrative building and then into an academic building where I saw Neal go into an office and talk to someone. He almost lost me leaving that building. He slipped down a corridor that led to a series of other corridors, and checking each one would have taken so long I'd have lost him for sure. I decided my best bet was to go back outside and watch the exits. I guessed right. Soon he slipped out the back and I was following him again."

"Nice work," said Travis. "I fell into the trap of checking endless corridors once."

Diana acknowledged the compliment with a nod. "We dodged around buildings for a while. Must have been about 15 minutes later that I spotted Neal heading into a building called Watson Hall. Unfortunately the place was a mass of small rooms – they looked like art studios – and that's ultimately where I lost Neal. I'd been hanging back so not to be obvious where I was, and that gave him too much of a head start. I was about to give up when he found me. Our hour was over, and we came back here."

"By way of a bistro," Neal added. "Never let it be said I caused our newbie to starve."

"Any suggestions for Diana for next time?" Peter asked.

Team members asked questions about the exterior and layout of Watson Hall and then offered advice for how she might have kept up with Neal. Peter was glad Diana had been matter of fact about losing Neal and that she wasn't disheartened by the experience. She was listening to the suggestions from the team and it seemed like she looked forward to her next round of Tuesday Tails. All indications were pointing to Diana being a good fit for the team, and an example of the kind of attitude he wanted to foster.

Then Jones asked the question Peter had been waiting for. "Why ask for the exception to the two-mile limit? There are plenty of places closer to the office where Neal could have pulled the same tricks."

"Yes, Neal." Peter smiled. "It's about time you disclosed the significance of leading Diana to Columbia."

"Starting in the fall semester, I'm going to be heading to Columbia after work several evenings each week," Neal said. "I'm enrolled in a dual master's in art history and visual arts, and Watson is one of the places where I'll spend a lot of my time on campus."

Applause and whistles followed the announcement. The morning briefing lasted half an hour longer than usual as team members plied Neal with questions about the degree program and offered advice for juggling the job and school. It was a welcome contrast to the situation a couple of months ago. Back then Neal had been stressing about how he'd pay for the degree and unwilling to share the news that he'd been accepted by a prestigious university. Urban Legend had still been a secret and Neal thought he had to stop Masterson Music by himself to prove that he belonged in the team.

Of course Neal still had secrets. That was part of his nature Peter was learning to accept. But meanwhile Neal was learning to trust people more, and was putting down roots.

As Peter looked approvingly at the team interacting with Neal, Hughes walked by and beckoned Peter out into the hall. "Looks like the shouts I heard weren't a matter for concern."

"They were congratulating Neal on his acceptance into Columbia. He finally told the team."

"I'm glad he was able to swing the tuition after the Bureau didn't come through for him," Hughes said.

"He got a full scholarship." Peter decided to add the comment he'd almost made after his own midyear review. "Thanks for supporting me back in December when I came to you out of the blue with a request to recruit a suspected felon as a consultant. I know it was a big risk."

"Hard to argue with success." The conference room had grown quiet as people noticed Hughes observing through the glass wall. He stepped inside and extended a hand to Neal. "Congratulations, Caffrey. I know how much this means to you."

"Thanks," Neal said, shaking Hughes' hand.

"My only concern is D.C. Art Crimes will try to recruit you away once you have those credentials."

Neal looked around the room at the team. "Nah. I'm happy here. New York is home."

Later, back at his desk, Peter tried to imagine an older version of Neal, with the master's degrees and a few years' experience at the FBI. What would that be like? Hughes had been joking, but would other team leads get over their skittishness about Neal's criminal past and try to recruit him away? If they did, Peter told himself he should be happy for Neal's success, and not feel like he was losing his son.

Neal knocked on his door. "Got a minute?"

Peter waved him inside. "What's on your mind?"

Neal closed the door and sat down. "Father's Day."

"That's about ten months away."

"Funny. No, I mean this past Father's Day. Before we got busy with tracking down Robert and the Masterson sting, I'd planned to request a do-over."

"Why?"

"I got too much inside my own head after seeing that video of me as a kid. That kinda zapped the fun out of everything at the end, and after I went home I regretted it. Anyway, there's a Yankees game this weekend. You wanna go?"

Peter stopped trying to envision an older Neal. He needed to take the time to enjoy this Neal, the one who looked up to him as a father figure and a trusted friend. "Let's do it. Just you and me this time. El has an event scheduled for Saturday."

"I'll pick up the tickets." Neal stood up and was reaching for the door when he turned around. "You know what would be perfect? We should go to a day game on a Tuesday."

"No, we aren't playing Tuesday Tails in Yankee Stadium," Peter insisted.

Neal chuckled as he left. Peter supposed he should be worried what the kid would do next, but he couldn't help smiling. He realized he smiled often at work these days, especially compared to other team leads.

At home that night Peter told El about the way Neal made the announcement he was enrolled in Columbia, about the invitation to the Yankees game, and about the revelation he'd experienced in his office after Neal had left. "Neal brings a lot to the table. His skills have helped solve cases and have made our team experts in tailing suspects. All of that went into his appraisal. But there's one thing I can't include because management would think I was insane if I said it. White Collar is more fun with Neal around."

A/N: This final chapter contains several references to past stories or previous chapters, including:

Caffrey Conversation included the scenes in St. Louis, including the phone call between Neal and El.

Caffrey Envoy mentioned David being late for Neal's christening, and also covered the option of sending Neal with David instead of Meredith.

Caffrey Flashback described Neal's abduction by Vance, and also included Noelle's description of how she and her twin reacted to fear. At the end of that story Neal receives Byron's box.

Chapter 2 of this story covered Father's Day.

Chapter 24 of this story covered little Henry giving Neal the stuffed animal.

I like to think that the married version of Ellen Parker we see in this chapter isn't destined to the same fate she met in canon.

As always, Silbrith had great suggestions as she endured multiple rounds of edits. As location scout, she found the Carlyle Club. Describing Meredith as encased in ice was also a comment from Silbrith that I decided needed to be included.

If you're reading this AU in order, then the next story after this one is The Golden Hen by Silbrith, set at the end of August, 2004.

It was exactly a year ago – over Thanksgiving vacation 2014 – that I outlined Caffrey Disclosure. I'll post a pin of that outline on the Caffrey Disclosure Pinterest board, and will be resorting the pins over the next few days to put the chapters in order from 1 – 44. And now over Thanksgiving 2015 I prepare to outline my next story in the AU: Caffrey Aloha. That story will bring together the Caffrey and Burke families for the wedding of Noelle Winslow to Joe Burke in Hawaii. The story will be set in late December 2004 through early January 2005, and will also feature a canon thief planning a jewel heist. I'll start posting Aloha around the end of this year.

Thanks so much for reading and for your supportive comments over the last year. You've made the writing process even more pleasurable!