Prologue:

Jim hastily grabs his tie from Karen’s outstretched hand. He gives her a quick smile as she beams up at him, chiding him to hurry. She reminds him that keeping a minister waiting must be at least a minor sin. He chuckles as she laces her fingers through his, eagerly pulling him towards the door. Reverend James has graciously agreed to meet with them after work to accommodate their schedule and they are almost running late to meet him.

He stuffs his feet into his shoes as the phone began to ring. He leans over to grab it until he hears Karen growl, “Don’t you dare, let it go to the machine. We’re going to be late.”

He pulls back his hand sheepishly and they start out the door and he’s about to shut it when he hears Pam crying into the phone.

“Jim, oh dear God please be home,” she sobs into his machine. Jim would never be entirely sure where the moments between when he throws the door open and when he picks up the phone go. The receiver is pulled against his ear before he knows it and suddenly Pam’s cries are echoing in his ears.

“Pam, calm down.” His voice as he sooths her sound foreign to his own ears, certainly calmer than he feels. His heart races and he can feel the whooshing sound of blood pulsating through his ears. He adds a silent Jim, Calm the Fuck Down in a futile attempt to soothe himself.

“God, Jim. There’s been an…there was an accident and…Roy came back and he got upset and…God, he shot Della Jim, Roy shot her.” And suddenly Jim’s not even breathing. Pam’s sweet little girl with the auburn curls and luminous green eyes? The child he’s never let himself love too much because he knows he’ll never be more than a funny uncle who makes her paper boats and paperclip necklaces?

“Is she…” he can’t. He Can Not finish that sentence.

Suddenly Pam’s voice is stronger; it’s steadier and for some reason the steel in it gives him a vague sense of déjà vu. He remembers the day she told him she still loved him, the day he turned her down because he was ‘in too deep with Karen.’ Her voice had had the steel in it then and suddenly he knows she has something to tell him, she’s about to break news.

“She’s in critical condition at Scranton General.” She says, her voice still strong even though he hears the exhaustion in her every syllable.

The relief he feels suffuse through his body is nothing short of astounding. She’s alive. She’s still alive. She’ll get better, somehow he just knows that she will.

“How are you holding up?” he asks, “Did he? Did he hurt you?” he doesn’t want to know if the answer is yes. He can’t imagine what he would do if the answer is yes; the thought frightens him a little.

“She’s yours Jim.” Pam says succinctly; responding as if she had never even heard his previous question, a profound silence follows her words.

For a moment he’s unsure of what she means and when it dawns on him he still needs her to say it again. “What? I don’t understand…Pam what do you mean?”

“Adele. Jim, she’s your daughter.”