Claire.
Three weeks from now, I had planned to stand in front of our family and friends and promise my life to her. I had let her choose flowers, approve invitations, smile across dinner tables beside my mother. I had let her sleep under my roof. I had let her touch the framed photographs my grandmother loved. I had brought her into the center of everything I once protected.
And Megan had been walking alone on the side of a road with my children strapped to her chest.
“What loose ends?” I asked.
Gregory rubbed both hands over his face. “I never met the babies. I didn’t even know there were three until later. Claire told me Megan was trying to contact you. She said Megan was unstable and might make false claims about a pregnancy.”
“A pregnancy?” I repeated.
He nodded once, miserably. “She wanted anything intercepted. Letters, emails, phone messages routed through office staff. She had help. I don’t know from who.”
