Chapter 2

The lawyer told me to secure my documents first and keep all records relating to the marriage and the baby's care.

Back home, I handed the baby to the nanny and went into the study alone.

The safe held my documents, my mother's things, and the baby's birth certificate.

I entered my birthday.

Wrong password.

Adrian used to use my birthday for every password.

He said it was the one date he could never forget.

I stood there for a moment, then tried Rosalind Vaughn's birthday.

The safe opened.

A pink journal sat at the front of the safe, impossible to miss.

The cover read "Rosalind's Road to Her Dreams."

I opened it. Inside were project payment receipts and business plans she had written.

The payments totaled five million dollars.

The last page was in Adrian's handwriting.

It's okay if you fail. I'll always be there to back your dreams.

Six months ago, I'd wanted to take a training course to prepare for going back to work. The tuition was one thousand dollars.

Adrian glanced over the registration form and asked if I had nothing better to do.

"You can't even keep up with the baby, and you want to go back to work?"

The next day, he canceled the authorized-user card on his account.

In the end, I paid the tuition with money I'd saved from organizing data for a research group.

He wouldn't spend one thousand dollars on my career, but he was willing to spend five million to let Rosalind learn by trial and error.

I took photos of the payment receipts, sent them to the lawyer, and kept looking for my own things.

My mother's donation papers were right under the document envelope.

She had signed a donor consent form before she died.

Adrian had helped handle the arrangements after her death. Whenever I asked to see the paperwork, he said he'd put it away so it wouldn't remind me of her and upset me.

Now, going through it, I found one of Rosalind's postoperative follow-up reports tucked among the papers.

I called him, the report in my hand. "Why is Rosalind's follow-up report in with my mom's papers?"

The line was quiet for a few seconds. "You went through the safe?"

"I was looking for my mom's things."

He paused, sounding impatient. "Rosalind received Mom's donated corneas. After the surgery, both sides agreed to contact through the eye bank. I handled the correspondence for the family. That's how I found out."

My grip tightened. "So you've known all this time, and you wouldn't tell me?"

"They were already donated. What difference does it make who got them? If I told you, you'd just start overthinking again."

I looked at the date on the follow-up report and remembered a day not long after my mother died.

That day, I'd asked him to help me go through her things.

He said he had an important client and couldn't get away.

That night, Rosalind posted a photo.

There were flowers by her hospital bed, and someone was peeling an orange for her.

On the wrist visible in the photograph was the watch I'd given Adrian. "The day I asked you to come home and stay with me—you were with her, weren't you?"

"She'd just had surgery. She had no one with her."

"I'd just lost my mother."

He didn't answer.

After a while, all he said was, "I'm really busy right now. Whatever it is, we'll talk when I get home."

The call ended.

I put down my phone and packed my mother's papers away again.

She had wanted to help others, and I wasn't going to go against her wishes.

But Adrian had kept it from me while staying by Rosalind's side, and he wouldn't even give me an honest answer.

I didn't call him back. Instead, I left a message for the donation coordinator at the number on the paperwork, asking her to verify the arrangements.

I packed my documents, then gathered the baby's medical records, follow-up appointment details, and the messages I'd sent Adrian asking for help with the medical bills.

In those messages, I was the one doing almost all the talking.

The surgery is scheduled. The bills and follow-up expenses are more than I can cover alone.

Can you just transfer the money first, please?

He took several hours to reply.

Tell me in advance when you need money. Stop coming to me at the last minute.

At the time, he'd been at an auction with Rosalind.

I saved the records and sent them to the lawyer.

My lawyer replied that they would investigate the transfers and compile evidence that I had always been the baby's primary caregiver.

Looking at the documents I'd gathered, I finally felt a little more secure.

I would no longer let Adrian alone decide what I could take with me.

I would fight for what belonged to me and my son.

By the time I was done, it was dark outside.

The nanny came in holding the baby and said he'd just finished his bottle.

My son smiled when he saw me.

I took him into my arms and gently touched his cheek.

In two more days, we'd be gone.