who prepared the documents you brought us, but your bloodwork is clear.”
Elise’s hand slid from her stomach.
The doctor continued. “You are not pregnant.”
Silence fell so completely that Graham heard the tiny crack of melting ice in the champagne bucket.
Claudine rose. “That cannot be right.”
“We repeated the test before I came in,” Dr. Ellery said. “There is no pregnancy to image today.”
Graham smiled because his mind had not yet found another expression.
“No. We saw an ultrasound.”
Dr. Ellery’s gaze shifted to Elise. “The image attached to your outside paperwork is not from this patient file.”
Maren turned slowly toward Elise.
“Elise?”
Elise sat up, the paper sheet wrinkling beneath her. “There must be some mistake.”
Dr. Ellery closed the chart. “The mistake is not medical.”
Claudine’s pearl bracelet snapped when she grabbed the arm of the sofa. Pearls scattered across the floor. One rolled under the exam table. Another tapped against Graham’s shoe.
He did not move.
“Elise,” he said. “Tell me you did not fake this.”
Her mouth trembled. Nora, had she been there, would have recognized the performance. Elise had always cried beautifully, without swelling or noise.
“You said your mother would never accept me unless there was a baby.”
“That is not an answer.”
“You said Nora had made you look weak,” Elise whispered. “You said you deserved a clean start. I only gave you a reason to take it.”
Claudine made a sound that was almost a gasp and almost a snarl.
Maren stared at Graham. “You divorced your wife over a lie you wanted badly enough to fund.”
Graham rounded on Elise. “Who helped you?”
Elise’s eyes flicked toward the door.
Too late.
Graham saw it.
Dr. Ellery stepped back. “This consultation is over. I will be reporting the suspicious documents to administration.”
“Wait,” Graham said. “There’s no need for that.”
Dr. Ellery looked at him with professional dislike. “There is every need.”
By the time Nora reached the airport, Graham had called eight times.
She declined every call.
At security, Tess woke and began to cry, not loudly, but with the exhausted confusion of a child who had been moved through too many adult storms. Nora crouched to her level.
“I’m right here.”
“Will my bed come?” Tess asked.
“No, sweetheart. But your quilt is in the suitcase.”
“The yellow one?”
“The yellow one.”
Tess wiped her cheeks with both hands and nodded like a queen accepting difficult news.
Milo carried his backpack and Tess’s small bag even after Nora told him not to.
“I can do it,” he said.
“I know,” Nora replied. “But you don’t have to carry everything anymore.”
He looked at her then, really looked, and his face changed. Some children run into comfort. Milo had learned to approach it carefully, like a stray cat testing a doorstep.
He handed her Tess’s bag.
They were waiting near the gate when Nora received a message from Attorney Park.
Do not board until you check the outer pocket of your blue suitcase.
Her pulse sharpened.
She pulled the suitcase close, unzipped the pocket, and found a blue folder she had not packed.
Inside was a letter addressed to her in Victor Whitlock’s narrow handwriting.
Nora,
If Graham signed what Lionel prepared, then you have already done
