Chapter 3
I had not seen my mother look small since I was a child.
Diane Walker had always filled every room she entered.
She was sharp, polished, impossible to intimidate.
But standing in my father’s doorway that night, she looked like a woman waiting for a sentence.
Dad stood.
“Diane, you shouldn’t be here.”
She ignored him.
Her eyes went straight to Ava, asleep on the sofa with one tiny hand curled beside her cheek.
Then she looked at me.
“I thought I was saving everyone.”
I laughed under my breath.
It sounded ugly.
“People always say that after they destroy a family.”
She flinched.
Good.
Dad stepped between us.
“Ethan.”
“No,” I snapped. “Don’t protect her from the truth. Not tonight.”
Mom walked into the living room, gripping her purse strap with both hands.
“Hannah was pregnant when she died.”
My chest tightened.
“No, she wasn’t.”
“She was.”
I shook my head.
“She was in a car accident. You told me she died instantly.”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“She didn’t.”
The room went silent.
Ava sighed in her sleep.
I could hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
My father sat down like his legs had finally given up.
Mom whispered, “She lived for three days.”
I stared at her.
Three days.
Three days my sister had been alive, and nobody told me.
“I was in Chicago,” I said. “You told me not to come because there was nothing to come back to.”
“I know.”
My voice rose.
“You know?”
Dad covered his face.
Mom kept going, each word scraping out of her.
“She was unconscious most of the time. The doctors delivered the baby by emergency C-section. Ava was premature. Tiny. Fighting.”
I looked at my daughter.
My daughter.
My niece.
My blood.
Everything inside me twisted.
“Why was Lauren involved?”
Mom looked away.
That was when I knew the answer would be worse.
“Hannah made a will,” Dad said quietly.
Mom turned on him.
“Robert.”
He looked at her with tired fury.
“No more.”
Dad stood and walked to the old rolltop desk.
He opened a drawer and pulled out a folder.
Then he handed it to me.
“Hannah named you guardian.”
My fingers went numb.
I opened the folder.
There it was.
My sister’s signature.
My name.
If my child is born and I cannot raise her, I ask my brother Ethan Walker to be her legal guardian.
My eyes burned.
“She trusted me.”
Dad nodded.
“She trusted you more than anyone.”
I looked at Mom.
“And you hid her baby from me.”
Mom started crying.
“You were twenty-nine. You were building the company. You had just ended an engagement. I thought a newborn would ruin your life.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“I was grieving.”
“So was I.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth.
I stood because sitting felt impossible.
“Where did Lauren come in?”
Mom wiped her cheeks.
“Lauren was volunteering at the hospital foundation. She knew Hannah from charity events. She found me crying in a hallway.”
Dad’s face hardened.
“She found weakness.”
Mom shook her head.
“She offered to help.”
“No,” Dad said. “She offered a deal.”
I turned to him.
“What deal?”
Dad looked at Mom.
She said nothing.
So he answered.
“Lauren had just found out she might never carry a child. She told your mother she could raise Ava quietly until we figured out what to do.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be permanent,” Mom whispered.
I stared at her.
“But then?”
“Then you fell in love with Lauren.”
My stomach turned.
Lauren had met me two months after Hannah’s funeral.
At a fundraiser my mother insisted I attend.
She had been gentle.
Patient.
Understanding.
She knew exactly when to mention grief and when to change the subject.
I thought she saw me.
Now I wondered if she had been sent.
“You introduced us,” I said to Mom.
She covered her face.
I stepped back.
“You handed me my sister’s baby through a woman pretending to love me?”
“No,” she cried. “I never meant for that.”
Dad’s voice was quiet.
“But you let it happen.”
Mom sank into the chair.
“I thought if you loved Lauren, and Lauren loved Ava, then maybe it would all become a family anyway.”
I stared at the DNA report.
“That’s why Ava isn’t Marcus’s.”
“No,” Dad said. “Marcus only thought she was because Lauren let him.”
“Why?”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“Money.”
Mom closed her eyes.
Dad continued.
“Hannah left Ava a trust. Five million dollars, plus her shares in the family company. The guardian controls it until Ava turns twenty-five.”
The room spun.
My sister had not only left me her child.
She had left Ava protected.
And everyone around her had circled like vultures.
“Lauren married me for custody access.”
Dad did not answer.
He did not have to.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Marcus.
Bring Ava back tonight or we file kidnapping charges.
Then another came from Lauren.
Please don’t make me tell the court you’re unstable.
I showed the phone to Dad.
His face went dark.
Mom whispered, “They’re already moving.”
Dad stood.
“Call Rebecca.”
Rebecca Shaw was my father’s attorney.
The kind of woman who could make a judge nervous by clearing her throat.
I picked up my phone.
Before I could dial, headlights swept across the living room window.
A car stopped outside.
Then another.
May you like
Blue and red lights flashed against the curtains.
Lauren had called the police.
