Red-faced.
Furious.
And beautiful.
When the nurse placed her against my chest, I cried harder than I had cried in the basement.
I whispered:
“You survived.”
Her little fingers curled around mine.
“You survived, baby.”
Lena stood beside me.
She was crying too.
“What are you going to name her?” she asked.
I looked down.
I thought about the cage.
The darkness.
The cold.
The night I had believed I was going to die.
Then I looked at my daughter.
“Hope.”
Lena smiled through her tears.
“Hope.”
“Yes.”
Because that was what Marcus couldn’t take from me.
Hope.
Three days later, Detective Harris returned.
This time he wasn’t alone.
Victor Carter walked into the hospital room.
Marcus’s father.
I had met him only twice during my marriage.
He had always been distant.
Cold.
Businesslike.
He looked older than I remembered.
He approached my bed.
“I owe you an apology.”
I said nothing.
He looked at my daughter.
“May I?”
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
He stood beside the crib.
His face collapsed.
“I knew something was wrong.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“With my son.”
He looked down.
“Months ago, I discovered money disappearing from the company.”
“How much?”
“Enough to destroy it.”
I stared at him.
“And you thought Marcus did it?”
“I knew he was involved.”
“Then why didn’t you stop him?”
He looked at me.
“Because I believed I could fix it quietly.”
I felt anger rising.
“Quietly?”
My voice shook.
“You were trying to protect your company while your son was destroying my life.”
He lowered his head.
“You’re right.”
I had expected excuses.
There were none.
He continued.
“I hired an investigator.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“Because I discovered Marcus had been moving money through companies connected to his mother.”
I looked toward the door.
His mother.
“She was involved?”
Victor nodded.
“She signed documents.”
“Did she know what he was doing?”
“Yes.”
My hands tightened around the blanket.
Then Victor said something that made everything colder.
“There was one more problem.”
“What?”
“Marcus discovered that you had become the beneficiary of several accounts.”
I stared at him.
“What accounts?”
Victor opened the folder.
“Your name was on a trust.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t have a trust.”
