Sasha waved her hands dismissively. "No, you must have me confused with someone else. Dr. Chase, the director wants to see me. I'll be right back." Watching Sasha beat a hasty retreat, Wilfred mused, "I've definitely seen her before. Just can't put my finger on where. Damn this memory, it's getting worse."

Chase chuckled teasingly, "Maybe it's for the best your memory's slipping. You might forget about trying to set me up in that arranged marriage."

"That's not something I'll forget. Grandpa Wilson has come all this way. I owe him an explanation. His granddaughter's right here in Northbridge. One of these days, I'll coax her over for a meet-and-greet, and we can talk wedding dates."

"You meet with her if you want. I'm too tied up." With that, he left some instructions with the nurse by his side and headed straight back to his office.

Grandpa Wilson had been in the hospital for a few days, and Sasha had sneaked peeks at him several times without being caught. On the day of his discharge, she wanted to take one last look but unexpectedly saw Chase standing in the room.

Grandpa Wilson watched him with a calm demeanor. "You really don't want to meet my granddaughter? She's quite a looker, you know. She used to love playing with you as a kid."

running around the complex back then. I can barely remember who's who. Besides, I've

eyebrow. "Are you serious? Or is this

I appreciate your trust in me and your willingness to match your granddaughter with me, but it just

Wilson shook his head in disappointment. "Alright then, I'm not stuck in the old ways. I'll talk to your grandpa about calling off the marriage. From now on, whoever you marry is

flights were grounded. Ian's plans to come home

news. Her voice grew

eyes, cracked a smile. "Missing

all," Clara

longing for him would be a lie; she'd been missing him since the second day he left on his business trip. Had she not been swamped at work, she would have flown out to see him. Now that his return had been anticipated, being told the flights were canceled

I'm sorry. How about you hit the sack, and maybe when you

upon hours. Christmas would be long gone by then. After hanging up, Clara stroked Snow's head and said without much enthusiasm,

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