Chapter 2 - Yesterday Afternoon
Ethan arrived at St. Mary’s less than thirty minutes later.
By then, my surgeon had returned.
Part of my incision had reopened after Margaret kicked the bed and I forced myself upright.
The doctor was furious.
“You were supposed to remain almost completely still.”
“I know.”
“You’ve lost enough blood already.”
Daniel stood near the doorway while nurses worked around me.
Margaret had been moved to a secured consultation room.
Noah and Nora were beside me again.
This time, two security officers remained outside the suite.
When Ethan entered, he stopped three steps inside the door.
His face went pale when he saw my swollen cheek.
Then he saw the blood on my gown.
“Jesus.”
He moved toward me.
I raised my hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
The pain in his face looked real.
That didn’t mean I trusted it.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Mr. Whitmore, your mother produced a private adoption agreement containing what appears to be your signature.”
“I didn’t sign it.”
“Where were you yesterday afternoon?”
Ethan looked at me.
I remembered Margaret’s final words.
Ask your husband where he was yesterday afternoon.
Ethan swallowed.
“I was at my mother’s house.”
My stomach tightened.
“For what?”
“She said she wanted to discuss the twins.”
“What kind of discussion?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“She said Karen was struggling.”
“With infertility?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She asked whether we would ever consider letting Karen have a larger role in Noah’s life.”
I stared at him.
“A larger role?”
“I thought she meant helping.”
“Did the word adoption come up?”
Ethan hesitated.
That hesitation answered me.
I looked away.
“Olivia.”
“Did it?”
“Yes.”
My chest felt hollow.
“What did you say?”
“I told her absolutely not.”
Daniel watched him carefully.
Ethan continued.
“She became furious.”
“She said the Whitmore name needed a male heir raised by someone who respected the family.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I asked, “And then?”
“She put papers in front of me.”
Daniel’s attention sharpened.
“What papers?”
“I don’t know.”
“I didn’t read them.”
“She told me they were documents giving Karen temporary authority if something happened during the delivery.”
My voice turned quiet.
“Did you sign anything?”
“No.”
Ethan looked directly at me.
“I refused.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Did you leave the documents there?”
“Yes.”
“Did your mother have access to examples of your signature?”
Ethan stared at him.
Then his face drained of color.
“My father’s estate documents.”
Margaret had handled nearly all of them after Ethan’s father died.
Tax forms.
Property transfers.
Trust papers.
Hundreds of pages bearing Ethan’s signature.
Daniel nodded slowly.
“That gives us a possible source.”
I looked at Ethan.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“You knew your mother was talking about taking my child.”
“I thought I shut it down.”
“You thought wrong.”
He lowered his eyes.
Then Daniel’s phone rang.
He listened for less than ten seconds.
His expression tightened.
“What happened?”
He ended the call.
“Karen Whitmore is downstairs.”
Ethan looked toward the door.
“With the car seat?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
He looked at me.
May you like
“She’s with two police detectives.”
“And she says she wants to confess.”
