“Spencer doesn’t even know he’s got a son,” I said.

“Patricia’s going to make a scene the second she lays eyes on this baby in the courthouse lobby,” Helen said, her voice sinking to a low whisper.

“She thinks she owns everything that ever had Walter’s name on it.”

“Let her try.” I tucked the blue blanket around my son’s shoulders.

“They wanted a public fight, so we’ll hand them the whole truth.”

Helen reached into the crib and smoothed the soft flannel sheet next to his shoulder.