y on the polished surface of the guest room table: a standard divorce petition and a s

s she slid the folder to Anabel. "He's drowning in

. The path forward was clear, stripped of all

that a

urst in without knocking. He held a small, hard baseball, his f

room now," h

is arm and hurled the ball. It struck the

one, clattered to the floor. Inside, the smiling faces of her parents were now

left h

ely, and knelt. She picked up a jagged piece o

," she said, her voice a quiet, chilling whisper, "that som

is lower lip trembled, and th

from her crying son to the shat

do to him?"

he scene: his distraught nephew, his furious sister

ing on?" h

ms. Then he turned his gaze to Anabel, his brow f

the floor. "Your 'child'," she said, her voice thick and ra

nd a flash of genuine guilt crossed his face. He knew how much

have it fixed. I'll

er eyes were swimming with tears, her pain so raw i

was trapped, despera

was

up the folder Chloe had given her, which she had already slipped

re," she said, her voice choked with unshed tears. She held the

e pen she offered. He saw the foundation's letterhead on the top page and flipped quickly thro

e finalized

r a multi-million

ook of relief on his face. He

back, a subtle rejecti

apped his arms around his leg. "Un

boy. He bent down, scooped him up ag

ance had been flawless. His guil

r hands no longer shaking. There were no mo

crossed, a smug, triumphant look o

rief second before turning

shifted. Kathryn jus