Theo’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“I can’t change it.”
“No.”
“But I will never make that choice again.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he picked up the suitcase.
“Let’s go.”
Mara survived the surgery.
I met her two days later.
She looked exhausted and frightened.
When I entered the hospital room, she searched my face for anger.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“My mother knew about you.”
“You were a child.”
“So was Theo.”
The words hurt because they were true.
I sat beside her.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then she placed Wren in my arms.
The baby opened her eyes.
Dark, like Warren’s.
Like Theo’s.
Like Mara’s.
But she was not responsible for any of the secrets carried before her birth.
None of the children were.
The financial investigation continued for months.
Warren’s lawyers tried to claim I had approved the transfers.
The original trust papers proved otherwise.
A handwriting expert confirmed the forged signatures.
