Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Since Adele’s still setting up toppings, I pull out my phone.
I know you’re mad, but… Can I call you later about something?
Kylie
Is the something him?
It doesn’t have to be…
Forgive me for not understanding you clearly have feelings for him. I’ll listen, but you still have to let me warn you—and you can’t get mad.
I won’t.
10 o’clock work?
Yes.
Perfect. (By the way… That man has never loved anything but chaos and money. Not even his own family.)
I’ve seen the way he looks at Adele, so I can’t vouch for that. But Adele isn’t my secret to share.
“So, is this a tradition you and your dad have?” I ask Adele.
“It would be if he actually showed up to one.” She hands me a vanilla cup. “He’s always busy.”
“This time, something came up last minute.”
“Something always does.” She gives me a spoon. “I have more rainchecks than real memories.”
I bite my tongue.
“Sometimes, I don’t think he wants me to be home with him at all.”
“You don’t mean that.”
She shrugs and tops my scoop with butterscotch. “Let’s pretend it was always just me and you for tonight. What other toppings do you want?”
End of Episode 15
Da capo
EPISODE 16
Ryder
Several Years Ago
Seattle’s rain is relentless tonight.
It drums violently against the jet’s windows, soaking the tarmac in chaotic rhythm. I watch it pelt the pavement in sheets, debating whether I want to wait it out before heading home. But streaks of lightning dance through the thick clouds, promising more to come, so I decide to take the risk.
Grabbing my umbrella, I motion for the pilot to open the door. The blast of cold air hits me instantly, and I descend the steps quickly, wading into the chill. I slide behind the wheel of my town car and take the back roads to the estate, tires slicing through flooded streets.
Fifty miles later, I coast down the winding driveway and press the gate button—but nothing happens. Frowning, I try again. Still nothing.
I step into the storm, prepared to force the gate open manually, but something stops me. A standing umbrella stand. And beneath it, a car seat.
Water lashes my face and runs down the back of my collar as I inch closer. Pink blankets fill the seat, each one stitched with delicate cursive: “Congratulations! It’s a girl!”
What the hell?
I peel back the top blanket, revealing a sleeping infant and a card taped to her chest.
Beyond confused, I scoop up the car seat and carry it to the passenger side of my car. Once it’s secured, I trigger the manual gate override and drive down to the garage.
“I thought you were going to wait out the storm.” Chester hands me a file as I step out. “Didn’t realize you were in a rush to get back.”
“I wasn’t.” I round the car, open the door, and lift the seat. “Someone left this by the gate.”
“Is that… a real baby?”
“I believe so.” Her eyelids flutter for a moment. “Pull the security footage. Let’s find out who left her.”
“On it.”
He follows me to the kitchen as I gently unclip the card from her chest.
Ryder—
I didn’t realize I was pregnant until months after we fell apart. And by fell apart, I mean you chose your life over me.
You always were selfish.
I wanted to keep this baby, I really did. But I need a fresh start, and she deserves better. If you don’t want her, I know you’ll find a family who can do far more than I ever could.
Her paperwork’s in a Ziploc behind her seat. Two cans of formula are included.
Please don’t contact me. I already feel guilty enough. But this is what’s best. She’ll get a future. And maybe I’ll find someone who can actually be introduced to my parents someday—someone capable of love.
Best,
Taylor
P.S. I named her Adeline Ivy. After your mother. I thought that might mean something.
“It was Taylor.” Chester returns with his phone, showing me security footage. Taylor hops out of a truck, paces beneath the umbrella, sets up the stand, and kisses the baby’s forehead before speeding away.
“I’ll call our doctor to check her out,” Chester says. “And notify the safehouse Monday to arrange for pickup.”
“Sounds good.”
Adeline’s eyes blink open. She stares at me, lets out a high, aching cry.
“Actually, I’ll make both calls now.” Chester shakes his head and disappears around the corner.
I don’t think this baby is mine. Not really. But I’m not heartless.
I can care for her until she’s taken elsewhere.
As I lift her from the carrier, the blankets fall. Her white onesie clings to her tiny body.
And through the thin fabric, I see them.
Four stem-shaped birthmarks on her chest.
My heart stalls.
The same marks my mother had. The same ones my grandmother carried. The same ones that haunt every whispered story in our bloodline—women we lost, women we never got to save.
My breath catches as a shudder rolls through me, the weight of generations pressing in all at once. The storm outside quiets in my ears, like the world itself is holding its breath.