Madison's stomach flittered with nervousness as she waited in the sitting room as Cameron fetched Rosie. Madison hadn't gotten a chance to actually meet the sister when they rescued her, and she hoped Rosie would take to her as Alice had. By now, Madison hoped that Alice would have at least told her sister about the woman who helped them find Rosie.

She walked to the window and parted the drapes, looking out into the yard. Another thing that made her nervous was knowing she could touch something in this house and get the vision about Lord Hanover's little girl. Just the thought made her anxious to walk around the house, running her fingers over everything the elder Mr. Westland had made. But she needed to take one step at a time, and right now, helping Cameron talk to Rosie was the next step. Once that was completed, Madison could look for more clues the elder Mr. Westland would have left in regards to the lost child.

Voices drifted up the hall, and Madison jerked her head toward the door. Within minutes, Cameron and his younger sister walked into the room. Rosie's bruised eye looked slightly better than it had the night they rescued her. The young woman wore a pale green gown trimmed with white lace, and elbow-length sleeves and a square neck. Her brown hair wasn't as light as Cameron and Alice's, and the freckles on her cheeks and nose was something the other two siblings didn't possess, either.

"Rosie, this is Miss Madison Haywood." Cameron closed the door before standing beside Madison. "We didn't get much of a chance to be properly introduced the other night."

Rosie curtsied, and Madison also copied the movement.

"Miss Haywood," Cameron continued, "helped me find you."

"Miss Haywood." Rosie stepped closer. "Alice tells me you have visions."

Madison nodded. "I do."

"And that is how you saw me?"

"Yes. I saw you crying in the bedroom attic. And I saw Mr. Langston strike you."

Rosie grasped Madison's hands and smiled. "I don't know how to thank you for your help."

"I was only too happy to assist your brother." Madison smiled.

Rosie's eyebrow shot up and she switched her gaze to her brother. "And I'm certain you and Cameron spent a lot of time together."

Warmth gathered in Madison's cheeks. She hoped Rosie couldn't see how uncomfortable she was with this subject. "Well, we did spend some time—"

"Rosie, the point is," Cameron interrupted, "we rescued you from a very bad situation." He motioned toward the sofa, and she sat. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if Miss Haywood and I couldn't find you?"

She nodded and stared at her hands resting on her lap. "Yes. You have reminded me countless times already, Cam."

"All I want is for you to get to know a man and his family before you...um, decide hastily to run off with him."

She snapped her head up and glared at her brother. "I'll have you know that I spent many hours with Gaynor and I feel as though we understand each other well. I feel as though I have known him for years. I have never connected so quickly with a man before."

Madison didn't dare comment. She knew exactly how Rosie felt because that was what she thought about Cameron. So did that mean she needed to get to know him better before deciding if she was in love with him or not? It was probably best...

He released a heavy sigh and sat next to his sister. "Rosie, sometimes men tell a woman what they want to hear only to have them in their control."

Madison arched an eyebrow. Where is he going with this? She hoped he didn't know this from his own experience.

"No, Cam. Gaynor is not like that." Rosie folded her arms. "He hasn't lied to me at all."

"Actually, he did." Cameron frowned. "Today I went with two other officers to Mr. Bailey's house to ask Gaynor and Mr. Langston some questions. What we found was that Mr. Bailey was killed by Gaynor's cane." He raised his gaze to Madison. "And Miss Haywood saw Gaynor beating Mr. Bailey over the head with it in her vision."

Rosie swung her head and looked at Madison as tears filled her eyes. "Y-you saw my Gaynor doing that to Mr. Bailey?"

Madison opened her mouth to reply, but Cameron answered for her, instead.

"Rosie, I arrested Gaynor earlier today. He won't be able to lie to you ever again."

Color left Rosie's face. She shook her head as tears streaked down her cheeks. "H-how could you?"

"I put a criminal away. That's what I do for a living, remember?"

"But...what if you're wrong? What if Heath was the one who killed Mr. Bailey, instead? After all, he wanted Mr. Bailey's estate, too."

"Rosie," he took her hands in his, "all the evidence points to Gaynor. If he tries to deny it, then he's lying. Why can't you understand that he's not the man you thought he was?"

"No!" she screamed and jumped to her feet. "You are not the man I thought you were." She wiped away the tears streaming down her face. "I don't know why Father just didn't leave me in Scotland when I was six. I would have been better off without you as a brother."

She ran out of the room, sobbing. Madison's heart wrenched, and she moved to follow, but Cameron grabbed her arm, stopping her.

He shook his head. "She needs to be by herself now."

"But we cannot have her hating you. If she only knew what type of person Gaynor really was—"

"In time she will discover that." He cupped Madison's face. "But I thank you for being here with me."

"I didn't do anything." Madison shrugged.

"You supported me, and that means the world."

Smiling, she cuddled her cheek against his palm. "I just want her to know how thoughtful you really are."

He chuckled. "My dear Madison, I'm her brother. I don't think she'll ever realize that."

"Tell me," she stepped away from him as she moved to the hearth, staring into the low burning fire, "has Rosie always felt that way about you or was she speaking out of anger?"

Cameron's footsteps were light as he walked toward her. "She wasn't like this when she was younger. It took a few years after she finally came to live with us before she truly felt part of our family, but by then, our father was losing his mind. I felt as though I needed to be a father-figure to her since our own father couldn't."

Curiosity snuck in, and she peeked at Cameron. "What had her so ill when she was young?"

Cameron shrugged. "I'm not sure we ever found out. We were always just told that she was too sick to travel."

Madison stared at the wooden candlestick holder standing on the hearth's shelf. The object had the most amazing craftsmanship. She knew without being told that this was one of the senior Westland's creations.

"I wish there was a way to repair the missing years between you," she said.

"Yes, that would be nice."

"Well, we must never give up trying to mend things between you and Rosie." She smiled at him. "I never had siblings, and believe me, I would have liked to have talked with someone while growing up."

"I understand. I shall keep trying."

She brushed her finger across the wooden candlestick, and immediately, all sights and sounds around her disappeared. No longer was she standing by the hearth with Cameron, but now she was in that same dark and cold room she'd seen before. The child wasn't crying this time. Instead, she moved a hairpin around the lock on her door until it popped open. Slowly, she opened the door and peeked out into the hall. Angry voices from the other room filled the air. Carefully, she crawled out of the room. Up the hall stood another door. This one looked to be the front door.

Just as before when Madison saw this vision of the child, she couldn't see the girl's face, but could feel what the child was experiencing. Anxiety pounded in the girl's chest and she crawled faster toward the door. Every other step she glanced over her shoulder to make certain the adults had not discovered she was out.

Almost there...

Suddenly, the house grew quiet. Chills climbed up the girl's neck and arms. She dared not pause and look behind this time. She must keep moving.

A gasp ripped through the air and the woman's voice screamed something Madison didn't understand, followed by what sounded like the name Rosaland. The man's fast footsteps entered the hall. He yelled, "Rose!"

Dread washed over her and churned her stomach. Tears stung her eyes. Failure was not an emotion the girl wanted to feel again, yet at the same time, hope still lingered in her heart.

"Madison! Are you all right?"

Cameron's voice snapped her out of her vision. She was in his arms as he carried her to the sofa. Her strength was sapped and all she could do was try to regulate her breathing. He rested her on the furniture before hurrying over to a bottle of wine. He poured a small amount into a glass and brought it to her.

"Sip this slowly. You'll feel better."

She shook her head and pushed the glass aside. "No, I'll be fine. I promise."

"What did you see?"

Rubbing her forehead, she closed her eyes and thought back to the vision. Why was she having these visions about Hanover's daughter while in the Westland's estate? Something wasn't right about any of this, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

And then the name she'd heard came to mind again. Rosaland...Rose.

Gasping, she sat up and grasped the front of Cameron's uniform. "We must find your father's notes on the Hanover case."

"Why?"

"Because, I feel that..." She took a breath in hesitation, wondering how she could say this without startling him. "Because I need to know the name of their daughter."

"What is the urgency?"

"Because someone in my vision called the girl by her name. Rose."

Frowning, he shook his head. "I still don't understand."

"Don't you see? Hanover's daughter was six years old when she was kidnapped. And..." she licked her parched lips. "Rosie was six years old when she was brought here to live with you. They both have the same name and they are the same age."

Cameron stared at her for a few moments with wide eyes in silence before his mouth stretched into a grin.

"You must be joking."

She arched an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

He jumped to his feet as if the sofa was on fire. Strolling toward the hearth, he ran his fingers through his hair. "You've got it all wrong. Rosie isn't the Hanover's lost daughter. She's my father's daughter."

"But why do I keep having those visions here in this house, whenever I touch something that your father made?"

"I don't know, but..." He growled and stopped, facing her. "But you're wrong. Rosie is my sister."

"Cameron, she really doesn't resemble you or Alice at all. She has her own looks."

"She has the same color of hair as mine." He pointed to his head.

"Her hair is darker."

"That doesn't mean anything," he snapped. "And there's the fact that we don't know how old that missing girl would be right now. Just because the girl was six when she disappeared, and I didn't see Rosie until she was six..." He raked his fingers through his hair.

Finally, she felt as though her strength had returned, so she stood and moved toward him. "Cameron, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just trying to figure out why I keep getting these very confusing visions. Please understand—"

"Madison, you are accusing my father of kidnapping. I know he was insane, but he wouldn't kidnap someone's child."

Panic wrinkled his face and had even made his face grow pale. His eyes were wide, yet confused. She understood that emotion well.

"Both you and Alice mentioned how he was obsessed with the case," she continued in a softer tone, "and that he lost his mind after that."

"Exactly! Why would he act that way if Rosie was the missing child?"

She lifted her hands in surrender. "Maybe he couldn't handle what he'd done—"

"Enough! I won't have any more talk of my father in this manner." He stormed to the glass of wine she hadn't drank, brought it to his mouth, and gulped it down.

She stayed silent, giving him time to think. She, too, needed to sort through her mind, and yet, the more she spoke her thoughts aloud, more of the puzzle pieces fit together. She couldn't believe how shocking this was, and yet what else was she to think?

"Madison, I have to return to the station. Please forgive me for not staying."

Without waiting for her answer, he grabbed his hat and dashed out of the room.