would not hold her. One hand gripped the edge of the table while the other protected her stomach, a reflex that had become stronger each week of pregnancy. Mr. Sato touched her elbow.
“Take a moment,” he said quietly.
Adrian reached her first.
He moved with the unhurried confidence of a man who had already arranged the ending. He buttoned his suit jacket, then looked down at her with an expression that would have appeared concerned to anyone too far away to see his eyes.
“Nora,” he said softly. “You should have listened.”
She looked at the floor.
She hated herself for it, but her body still obeyed old training. As a child, she had learned that eye contact could be mistaken for disrespect. In foster homes, in group kitchens, in principal offices, survival had often meant lowering her gaze and waiting for the storm to pass.
Adrian had recognized that in her long before she did.
He leaned closer. His cologne was cedar and citrus, the scent that once made her feel safe when he came home from work. Now it tightened her throat.
“I offered you a small settlement,” he whispered. “You got greedy.”
“I asked for a place to live until the baby came,” she said.
Her voice cracked on baby.
Adrian’s smile barely moved. “You asked for leverage. There is a difference.”
Behind him, Lila watched as if the scene had been staged for her benefit.
Nora’s son kicked again. She pressed her palm to the spot.
Adrian glanced down and let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh.
“Do not make this dramatic,” he said. “Pack one suitcase. I will tell security to let you in for an hour. Anything you leave behind can be collected through counsel.”
“The crib,” she whispered. “His clothes.”
“My staff will arrange storage.”
“Your staff? Adrian, those are our son’s things.”
Something hard flashed across his face. “Our son? We will discuss that after the test.”
Nora went still.
He had used the threat before, always privately, always when she protested too loudly. He knew the baby was his. He knew because he had monitored every appointment, every calendar, every hour of her life until she had no room left to be unfaithful even if she had wanted to. But suspicion was useful to him. It made her defend herself instead of accusing him.
Lila’s smile slipped, then returned.
Nora felt heat rise behind her eyes.
“You know he is yours,” she said.
“I know what you tell me.” Adrian lowered his voice even further. “You were alone when I found you. You will be alone again. That is not my fault. Some people are built to be left.”
The sentence entered her like a blade finding an old wound.
Some people are built to be left.
For twenty-five years, Nora had tried not to believe that. She had tried not to believe it when caseworkers changed and forgot her file. When foster mothers returned her clothes in garbage bags. When school awards were mailed to agency offices because no parent sat in the auditorium. When she aged out of the system with two hundred dollars, a bus pass, and a folded list of shelters.
Then Adrian had walked into the florist shop where she worked, buying
