Michael studied the photograph for a moment. “She looks like you.”
Sheridan turned pleading eyes towards him and asked, “Do you hate me, Michael, for walking away from my child, for not toughing it out the way your mother did? For not giving up everything to keep her with me?”
It was a foolish question, given what Michael had just told her about his family, but he realized even without the help of the counselor just how desperately she needed to hear the answer. “She's happy. Look at how happy she is.” He traced a fingertip over the child's brilliant smile. It's your smile, sweetheart. “You did the right thing, and I certainly don't hate you. You're a hero, Sheridan. You sacrificed your own happiness to make sure your daughter had the best possible life. That's what a true mother does. I
