Chương 1
"The hockey stick struck Grace across the shoulder with a hard, ugly crack that sent her sideways before she could get both arms around Lily.
For one terrible second, her right hand refused to obey her.
Then Lily screamed, “Mommy!” and Grace dropped to the marble floor, pulled the little girl beneath her chest, and made herself as wide as she could.
Pain burned from her shoulder into her neck, but she locked both arms around Lily anyway.
Lily’s fingers twisted into the brown fabric at Grace’s waist.
Behind them, heels clicked once against the white marble.
Grace looked over her good shoulder and saw Victoria lifting the black hockey stick again.
The immaculate white dress made the weapon look even darker in her hands.
“Please,” Grace said, struggling for enough air to keep her voice steady.
Victoria’s face had gone strangely blank.
“Don’t touch my child.”
Something moved behind Victoria.
The black-framed front doors opened, and Nathan Cole stepped into the foyer carrying a dark leather briefcase.
Victoria’s arms stopped halfway through the swing.
Nathan stopped too.
His gaze moved from the hockey stick to Grace on the floor and then to the small lavender dress almost hidden beneath her.
The briefcase slipped from his hand.
“What the hell is going on?”
It landed on its side near the entrance with a heavy thump.
Nathan was moving before Victoria answered.
“Wait,” Victoria said.
He did not.
He crossed the marble floor quickly, then slowed just before reaching Grace, as though the sight of her curled around the child had suddenly made every movement dangerous.
“Grace.”
She flinched when he reached toward her.
Nathan stopped his hand in midair.
“It’s me.”
“I know.”
Her answer came too quickly.
His expression changed at that, but Lily was crying against Grace’s chest and there was no room yet for whatever question had entered his face.
“Can you sit up?”
Grace nodded.
The movement sent a sharp pulse through her shoulder.
Her mouth tightened before she could hide it.
Nathan saw.
“Not that side,” he said quietly.
He slid one hand behind her upper back, careful to avoid the injured shoulder, and helped her straighten.
Lily refused to release her.
“I’ve got you,” Grace whispered.
The words were for Lily, though Grace was no longer certain which of them needed to hear them more.
Victoria lowered the hockey stick.
“Nathan, this is not what you think.”
He looked at her.
Grace had known Nathan long enough to recognize the dangerous version of his silence.
He did not shout when he was truly angry.
He became precise.
“Put it down.”
Victoria glanced at the stick as though she had forgotten she was holding it.
“Nathan—”
“Put it down.”
Her fingers opened.
The hockey stick struck the marble and bounced once before settling several feet away.
Nathan looked back at Grace.
“Can you stand?”
“I think so.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the one I have.”
Something almost familiar passed across his face, a brief memory of arguments in which Grace had refused to let him decide what she could manage.
Then it disappeared.
He helped her rise.
Her right heel slipped slightly on the marble, and Nathan caught her around the waist before she fell.
Grace sucked in a breath.
Lily tightened her legs around Grace’s hip.
“Mommy, go.”
“I’m trying, baby.”
Nathan went still.
Grace felt it before she understood why.
Lily had called her Mommy.
Nathan looked at the child properly for the first time.
Grace had spent four years preparing herself for that look.
None of her rehearsals had included a hockey stick on the floor.
None had included Victoria standing six feet away in white heels.
None had included Grace shaking so badly that she could feel it in her teeth.
Nathan stepped between them and Victoria.
Lily lifted her wet face from Grace’s neck.
Her eyes found Nathan.
She stared at him with the solemn concentration children sometimes gave strangers whose faces seemed oddly familiar.
Nathan stared back.
Lily’s breathing hitched.
Then she whispered, “Daddy.”
Nathan’s shoulders became completely still.
Grace closed her eyes for half a second.
It was too late to put anything back where it had been.
When she opened them, Nathan was looking at her.
Not at Victoria.
Not at the weapon.
Not at the red mark beginning to rise beneath the fabric covering Grace’s shoulder.
At her.
“Grace?”
There were questions inside the single word that he seemed unable to arrange into sentences.
She had once imagined telling him in a coffee shop.
Another time, during a sleepless night when Lily was two months old, she had imagined writing a letter.
For nearly a year she had carried that unwritten letter around in her mind until it became easier to pretend there was nothing left to say.
Now Lily was trembling in her arms, and Nathan was waiting.
Grace swallowed.
“She’s your daughter, Nathan.”
No one moved.
Somewhere deeper in the house, the refrigerator compressor switched on with a faint mechanical hum.
Nathan blinked.
Victoria gave a small laugh that contained no amusement.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Grace’s eyes stayed on Nathan.
He looked at Lily again.
The child immediately buried her face against Grace’s neck.
“How old is she?”
“Four.”
His jaw tightened.
“Four?”
“Yes.”
“Grace.”
“I heard you.”
“No, I don’t think you did.”
His voice remained low, but the control in it had begun to fracture.
“You’re telling me I have a four-year-old daughter?”
Grace shifted Lily higher with her left arm.
Pain flashed through her injured shoulder.
Nathan noticed and stopped himself.
His anger did not disappear.
It simply collided with something more immediate.
“You need a doctor.”
“I need to get Lily out of here.”
“You’re not driving.”
“I didn’t say I was.”
“I’ll take you.”
Victoria stepped forward.
“Nathan, you cannot seriously be listening to this.”
He turned so quickly that she stopped.
“What happened before I came in?”
May you like
Victoria folded her arms.
The gesture looked absurdly composed beside the hockey stick on the floor.
