“Mother, what are you doing?” Julian asked, his clipped corporate voice slipping into confusion.

“He was supposed to be dead thirty years ago,” Eleanor whispered, the purr gone from her voice as she took half a step back toward the door to the corridor.

Julian looked back at Dr.

Thorne, his jaw tightening as he gripped the folded guardianship release in his right hand.

“I don’t care who this doctor is,” Julian said, stepping forward until his knee hit the metal frame of the bassinet.

“Vivian is penniless, she has no health insurance, and she’s legally unfit to keep custody of a Vance heir.”