Chapter 3

The next day, I started packing.

The baby had a lot of things, and one bag filled up fast.

For myself, I only took a few pieces of clothing.

I didn't touch the jewelry or the designer bags.

Whenever Adrian gave me a gift, he said he would never let me go without anything other women had.

Only later did I understand that giving me things and taking me seriously were two different matters.

That morning, the donation coordinator called me back. After checking the paperwork, she confirmed that the donation had been handled according to my mother's wishes, that Adrian had not selected the recipient, and that the later exchange of identifying information had gone through the eye bank's consent process.

I asked her to send me a replacement copy of the donation acknowledgment, then texted Adrian to ask whether Rosalind knew.

He replied quickly. "I told her after the surgery. She's always been grateful to Mom. Stop using this to upset her."

I looked at the word "grateful" and thought of the little quilt covered in vomit.

"She knew what my mom did for her, and she still ruined the keepsake Mom left for her grandson. That's her gratitude?"

He didn't reply.

I put the donation acknowledgment with my mother's photograph. Her wishes had been respected, and that gave me peace. But I would not forgive their deceit or their disrespect on her behalf.

Just then, my lawyer texted, asking me to send one more document.

I told the nanny to keep an eye on the baby and went to the study.

Not long after, I heard arguing outside the door. "Miss Vaughn, he just finished his bottle. You shouldn't bounce him like that."

"What's wrong with me holding him for a minute?"

I went out right away.

Rosalind was standing at the top of the stairs with the baby in her arms. The nanny hovered anxiously beside her, unsure what to do.

When she saw me, the nanny rushed to explain. "Ma'am, Miss Vaughn said Mr. Blackwood told her to bring the baby downstairs. I wouldn't hand him over, so she took him herself."

I walked over. "Give me my son."

Rosalind didn't move. "Adrian said I should spend more time with Ross. I lost a baby once. Seeing him makes me feel a little better."

"Don't use my child to make yourself feel better."

Her expression changed. "Evelyn, do you always have to be so nasty?"

I held out my hands. "Give him to me."

The baby was uncomfortable in her arms and started to cry.

Rosalind glanced down at him and curled her lip. "What are you crying for? It's not like I'm going to hurt you."

I supported the baby's back, took him from her, and handed him straight to the nanny. "Take him to his room and close the door."

The nanny hurried off.

I turned back and stopped Rosalind. "You knew those corneas came from my mother?"

She shot me a look. "Sure. Adrian told me ages ago."

"The box said 'From Grandma.' Why did you use the quilt inside to wipe up your vomit?"

She laughed impatiently. "She was dead anyway. Might as well contribute something. The corneas had to go to someone. She should have been honored that I accepted them. What do you want me to do, put her on a pedestal?"

I stared at her. "You took my mother's corneas, and then you ruined her keepsake. Rosalind, how do you have the nerve to say something like that?"

Rosalind's face darkened. She glanced at the baby's door. "Evelyn, you think having a kid means you get to keep your place as Mrs. Blackwood forever?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Adrian said if you keep making scenes, he'll send you away on your own to cool off. You can leave, but the baby stays with the Blackwood family."

My hands slowly curled into fists.

When I didn't say anything, Rosalind's tone grew even breezier. "If you still want to be Mrs. Blackwood, stop digging up those old medical records to scare me. Otherwise, if you ever want to see your son, you'll probably have to ask me first."

"You have no right to make decisions for him."

"You'll find out soon enough whether I have the right."

The front door opened downstairs, and Adrian walked in.

The sneer vanished from Rosalind's face, and her eyes filled with tears. "Evelyn, I've always been grateful to your mom. You've been so emotional lately, and I don't blame you. I only came today to see the baby. You can't just hurt me for no reason!"

Before she finished speaking, she seized my wrist and pulled me toward her. Then she deliberately stepped backward down a stair and fell.

I caught the railing on instinct. A sharp pain shot through my wrist, and my knee slammed into the step.

She landed on the steps below and immediately began to cry.

Adrian rushed upstairs and went straight to help her. "Where does it hurt?"

"My foot..."

I steadied myself on the railing. Blood from my knee had already soaked through my pants.

Adrian looked up and snapped at me. "Evelyn, have you lost your mind?"

I took out my phone and opened the security footage from the camera at the top of the stairs.

We'd installed it after the baby was born.

In the footage, Rosalind grabbed my wrist first, then fell down the steps. My other hand never left the railing. I hadn't pulled her.

I saved it first, sent it to my lawyer, and only then handed the phone to him.

Adrian watched, his expression briefly stiffening.

Rosalind clutched his sleeve. "I lost my footing and tried to grab her... I panicked and thought she pulled me."

He was quiet for a moment, then handed the phone back. "She lost her footing. There's no need to make such a big deal out of it."

I looked down at my bleeding knee.

He picked Rosalind up. Before heading downstairs, he said, "Delete the video. Don't let it get out and embarrass us."

I didn't go after him.

Back in my room, the nanny saw my injury and scrambled for the first aid kit.

"Ma'am, you need to go to the hospital."

I nodded and texted the department head, asking whether I could bring the baby in for his follow-up first and handle my onboarding afterward.

The department head quickly put me in touch with a doctor who could see us.

I put my phone away and asked the nanny to help me grab the diaper bag.

She asked, "Are you coming back?"

I looked at my son, sound asleep in his crib.

"No. We're not coming back."