I looked past him toward the woman leaning against my counter. “And why is she here?”

Naomi took a slow, deliberate sip from my mug. “Do you really want him to explain it to you, Elisa?” she asked, with a small smirk.

Laurel sighed loudly from across the breakfast room, as though I were the one making the morning unpleasant. “Please don’t turn this into a scene, Elisa.

Cedric is upstairs sleeping.”

At the mention of my son, something deep inside me went very cold and very still.

“You packed my clothes while my child was sleeping upstairs?”