She looked at a hundred and fifty people and told them I had kept her precious babies from her.

And whatever small last thread of hope I had unknowingly still held for Laura’s decency, it broke, cleanly, in that moment, and I did not mourn it.

There was nothing left to mourn.

Chapter 19 — Proof, Not Anger

Naomi appeared beside my chair, and behind her Paisley, her eyes already wet.

“Dad,” Paisley whispered.

“Please tell me you heard what she just said.” “I heard it,” I said quietly.

Brooklyn was there too now, and her voice came low and dark.