Part 3
“My wife was in a clinic,” he said. “Why didn’t anyone tell me the document was unsigned?”
Evelyn turned to him. “Because you had not slept in four days. Because your daughter was losing weight. Because your wife had disappeared into panic and would not see you. Because the foundation board was already discussing whether your personal situation made you unfit to assume the chairmanship.”
Clara stared at Adrian.
“You were taking over the foundation?”
He looked at her.
“I was supposed to tell you after the birth.”
“Why after?”
“Because you were thirty-six weeks pregnant and we were already fighting.”
“We were fighting because you promised you would leave the family office.”
“I was leaving the investment division.”
“You said you wanted a life that didn’t belong to her.”
“I wanted a life with you.”
“Then why were you becoming chair?”
“Because the foundation is not the family office.”
“It is funded by the same money and controlled by the same person.”
Evelyn’s face went still.
The argument between Clara and Adrian had returned to its familiar groove, worn so deeply that both of them could have continued without thinking. Clara had accused him of never truly leaving his mother’s reach. Adrian had accused Clara of treating every compromise as surrender. Neither had known that Evelyn was keeping score.
The baby stirred.
Adrian looked down and murmured something too soft to hear. He touched one finger to the child’s cheek.
Clara felt milk tighten painfully in her breasts.
She had pumped that morning in the apartment where she had been staying, then poured the milk into labeled bags that a court-approved courier would deliver to the Vale estate. She had not been permitted to bring them herself.
“Is she hungry?” Clara asked.
“I fed her forty minutes ago.”
“How much?”
“Three ounces.”
“She usually takes two and a half.”
“She took three.”
“Did she spit up?”
“A little.”
“Did you hold her upright?”
Adrian looked at her, wounded. “Yes.”
“I’m asking.”
“I know how to feed our daughter.”
“I don’t know what you know. I haven’t been allowed to watch.”
The accusation landed more softly than the others and cut deeper.
Adrian looked toward his mother.
Evelyn said, “Clara, you were advised to rest.”
“Stop saying that word as if rest and removal mean the same thing.”
The baby made a faint rooting movement against Adrian’s shirt.
Clara recognized it immediately.
“She’s hungry.”
“She just ate.”
“She comfort nurses when she’s overwhelmed.”
Adrian’s expression changed. “How would you know?”
“Because I held her for eleven hours before Evelyn had me transferred.”
He stared at her.
Clara’s voice lowered. “You thought I left the hospital without holding her?”
“You told the nurse to take her.”
“I was hemorrhaging.”
“You said, ‘Take her away.’”
“I said it because I thought I was going to drop her.”
Adrian’s eyes closed for a moment.
He had arrived after the emergency. Evelyn had told him Clara became agitated, refused the baby, and demanded transfer to a private facility. By the time he reached her room, Clara was sedated and the newborn was in the nursery.
He had asked whether Clara wanted to see him. A nurse returned and said no.
He had believed the nurse had spoken to Clara.
Now he looked at Leah.
“Were you at the hospital?”
“Mrs. Vale asked me to coordinate the transfer.”
“Did Clara refuse to see me?”
Leah’s eyes filled. “I don’t know.”
“You told the nurse I should leave.”
“Your mother told me you needed to stay with the baby.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“I know.”
Adrian’s voice cracked. “Did anyone ask my wife?”
Leah shook her head.
The baby began to fuss.
Every adult in the room reacted at once and then stopped, uncertain who had the right to move.
Clara did not reach this time.
“She needs less light,” she said. “And fewer voices.”
Adrian looked toward the velvet curtains.
Leah crossed the room and lowered one bank of chandelier lights. The ballroom softened into warm shadow.
The child settled slightly but did not stop fussing.
Clara’s body responded before her mind did. Her shoulders curved. Her hands lifted. Her face changed with a tenderness so unguarded that Adrian looked away.
“Please,” she said.
He stood less than six feet from her.
“I don’t know what’s true.”
“I know.”
“I read those messages every night.”
“I know.”
“You disappeared.”
“I was taken somewhere you knew about.”
“I called the clinic.”
“They told you I did not want contact.”
“You signed the privacy restriction.”
“I signed intake papers while I could barely focus.”
“You could have changed it.”
“I tried.”
“You could have written to me.”
“I did.”
Adrian looked up.
Clara glanced toward Leah’s folder.
“There were letters.”
Leah’s face lost what little color remained.
Evelyn said, “No.”
Leah turned to her. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Stand beside you while you keep changing the name of what happened.”
Evelyn stepped toward her.
Martin moved between them.
It was not a dramatic gesture. He simply placed his body in the path, older and slightly stooped, but Evelyn stopped.
Leah opened the folder again and removed three envelopes.
Clara recognized her own handwriting.
Adrian stared at them.
“I found five,” Leah said. “These are the ones I kept.”
“Where are the others?” Clara asked.
Leah looked down. “Mrs. Vale told me to destroy them.”
Adrian’s face became completely still.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
The baby’s fussing sharpened.
Clara’s breathing became uneven, but she did not cry.
“What did the letters say?” Adrian asked.
She looked at him.
“The first said I was sorry for frightening you. The second said I had not agreed to guardianship. The third asked you to bring Rose to the clinic because the doctor there said family visits could be arranged if my legal representative approved them.”
Adrian looked at Evelyn. “You were her legal representative.”
“Temporarily.”
“You refused the visits.”
May you like
“The clinic advised against disruption.”
Clara said, “The clinic administrator told me the request came from you.”
