Then a quieter voice in the background.
Vivian.
“Tell her family circumstances have changed.”
I nearly smiled.
“Is your mother coaching you?”
“Lena, stop.”
“What circumstances changed?”
“You know exactly what changed.”
“No. Explain it.”
He didn’t.
Because saying it aloud would have exposed how ugly it sounded.
Four hours earlier, his daughters had been disposable because a son was coming.
Now the son might not be his.
So suddenly he wanted the daughters back.
“I want to see them.”
“They don’t want to see you right now.”
“You told them?”
“I told them we’re leaving today.”
“Did you tell them about Brielle?”
“No.”
“Did you tell them what I said?”
“No.”
He exhaled.
“Thank God.”
That hurt more than I expected.
Not because he was grateful they were protected.
Because he was grateful they didn’t know who he really was.
“You have ten seconds before I end this call.”
“Lena, I made a mistake.”
“Nine.”
“I was angry.”
“Eight.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“Seven.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Six.”
“I love the girls.”
“Five.”
“I do.”
“Four.”
“I’m still their father.”
“Three.”
“Just let me say goodbye.”
That stopped me.
Not because he deserved it.
Because Madeline and Sophie deserved the choice.
“I’ll ask them.”
He exhaled sharply.
“Thank you.”
“I said I’ll ask them.”
I walked into the family room.
Madeline was reading.
Sophie was coloring.
I crouched in front of them.
“Girls.”
Madeline looked up immediately.
“Is something wrong?”
“Your dad is outside the facility.”
Sophie stopped coloring.
“He came here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He wants to say goodbye.”
Madeline’s face changed.
Not much.
But enough.
She was nine.
Old enough to understand far more than Preston realized.
“Did he know we were leaving?”
“He knew we might relocate.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I held her gaze.
“No. He didn’t realize it was today.”
“Because he didn’t read it?”
My heart dropped.
“How do you know about the agreement?”
“I heard him yelling at Uncle Marcus last week.”
Preston’s brother.
Madeline looked down.
“He said he didn’t care where we lived as long as Brielle’s baby could have the nursery.”
I felt something inside me go cold.
Sophie’s eyes filled immediately.
“My room?”
Madeline shot me a terrified look.
She hadn’t meant to say that part.
Sophie whispered again.
“He was going to give the baby my room?”
I sat beside her.
“You have a home with me.”
“But my stars.”
The glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling.
Preston and I had put them up when she was four.
She used to count them when she couldn’t sleep.
“Your stars are still there.”
“For his baby?”
“No one is taking anything from you today.”
Madeline closed her book.
“I don’t want to see him.”
Sophie wiped her nose.
“Me neither.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
I returned to the call.
“They don’t want to come out.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing except that you were here.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Madeline heard you discussing the nursery.”
He went silent.
Then I heard Vivian in the background.
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Put my mother on speaker,” Preston said.
“You’re already on speaker at your end.”
“Lena,” Vivian snapped, “children hear things incorrectly all the time.”
“Madeline heard him say he didn’t care where they lived as long as the baby could have the nursery.”
“That was obviously taken out of context.”
“What context improves it?”
“You’re being vindictive.”
“No. I’m boarding a plane.”
“Those girls are Hales.”
“They’re Hartwell-Hale legally until the court says otherwise.”
“They belong with their father’s family.”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
Vivian’s voice sharpened.
“What is so amusing?”
“At breakfast yesterday, you posted a picture online calling Brielle’s baby the future of the Hale family.”
Nothing.
“You didn’t mention Madeline.”
Silence.
“You didn’t mention Sophie.”
Still nothing.
“You wrote that finally the Hale name would continue.”
“Lena—”
“So don’t stand outside a military installation today and pretend this is about family.”
Vivian hung up.
Preston stayed on the line.
“Did she really post that?”
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