My stomach turned.
Connor’s voice was low. “You went through my email?”
Melinda gave a broken little laugh. “That’s what you care about?”
He said nothing.
“Where are the emails?” Kenneth asked.
“Saved,” Melinda said. “Printed. And with someone else.”
Kenneth’s eyes sharpened. “Who?”
“My sister.”
Connor stared at her as if he no longer recognized her.
For the first time since he had stepped into that hallway with his rehearsed cruelty and proud smile, he looked genuinely afraid.
I should have felt satisfaction.
I did not.
I felt grief, widening into something too large for the small consultation room.
Because if Melinda was telling the truth, this was not only betrayal. It was not only adultery, not only divorce, not only friendship destroyed.
It was the theft of a possible child.
And the child was here now, breathing softly against the shoulder of the woman who had helped take him from me.
