She called him again and again before he finally picked up. His tone was ice-cold. “I’m in a meeting. What do you want?”
Lucie’s anger boiled over. “Steven, why is Cody at your mother’s house? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he replied, maddeningly calm.
She nearly shouted, “You’re just afraid I’ll take him for a paternity test, aren’t you? What are you hiding from me?”
“You’re overthinking it,” Steven said. “My mother just misses Cody. She wants to be a bigger part of Cody’s life.”
“Liar!”
He cut her off, voice flat. “I’m busy. I can’t talk.” And the line went dead.
“Hello? Steven?—” But it was useless. He’d already hung up.
Lucie’s hands trembled with fury. He was hiding something. She knew it in her bones.
Fine. If you won’t let me see my son, I’ll go pick him up myself.
She glanced at the clock—1:30 p.m.
Cody’s preschool let out at 2:30. If she hurried, she’d make it in time.
She changed clothes in a blur and sped out the door, heart pounding. Today, no matter what, she’d get that paternity test.
—
By 2:30, the school gates swung open.
Only a handful of parents waited outside; most of the children here were fetched by drivers or nannies. It was New Amberton’s finest kindergarten. Only the wealthy and powerful sent their children here.
Cody was always picked up by a private driver and a nanny.
Soon enough, Lucie spotted them: the nanny leading Cody by the hand, four stone-faced bodyguards trailing behind.
Cody skipped along, clutching a little box of homemade cookies.
“I made these myself!” he announced. “I’m saving them for Aunt Shannon.”
Lucie hurried forward, blocking his path. “Cody, sweetheart, Mommy’s here to pick you up.”


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