She stepped beside me again and said lightly, “Let’s go now. We should greet Dad before she gets escorted in. I want to see his face when Emerald breaks down. I want him to see I was worth choosing.”
I took her hand. “Come on.”
We reached the elevator. Amber held her phone, scrolling through articles with a grin. “After this, we can go public. You and me. Finally.”
The doors opened. We stepped inside.
Halfway down, Amber’s phone rang.
She frowned at the number. “Who is—?” She answered anyway. “Yes? Hello?”
Her smile froze. I watched her expression shift—curiosity, confusion, then sharp, sudden fear.
“What do you mean there’s a problem?” she demanded. “What problem?”
I straightened. “Amber?”
She held up a hand, listening hard. “What do you mean the woman inside the car isn’t her? That’s impossible—she’s supposed to be in the SUV that brings her to the press conference,” she snapped.
More silence. Amber’s mouth fell open slowly.
“N–No. That can’t be right,” she whispered.
My jaw tightened. “Amber, what is it?”
She hung up, staring at me like she couldn’t understand her own breath.
“The hospital,” she said shakily. “They said—Emerald is not there.”
My brows knitted. “What do you mean she’s not there? She was discharged today. She should be in her room waiting for the car.”
Amber shook her head harder. “They said she left. She left hours ago before they even discharged her.”
“That’s not possible.” I felt my voice sharpen. “She can’t leave. She was supposed to be escorted. What about the guards and all? She’s—”
“She’s gone,” Amber whispered. “Nathan… the nurse said she left with someone.”
“Who?”
Amber looked sick. “Her mother.”
My stomach tightened. “Her mother? She hasn’t left her husband in years.”
“I know!” Amber cried, stepping back. “But they left together. After she learned…” She swallowed. “…after she learned she lost the baby.”
The world stopped.
I blinked slowly. “Baby? What baby?”
Amber stared at me. “You didn’t know?”
My mouth went dry.
“She was pregnant, Nat,” Amber whispered. “She was pregnant with your child.”
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. My child?
“She—” I started, but my voice cracked. “She was pregnant?”
Amber nodded weakly. “She lost it last night.”
“That… that doesn’t make sense.” My voice was unsteady, almost foreign to my own ears. “She couldn’t have been. She would’ve said something. She—she can’t hide something like that from me.”
But she had.