Mom pretended to be annoyed.

"My granddaughter, taken care of by some stranger? You want me to lose sleep?"

The next second, all three of them stopped laughing.

Their gazes landed on my face at the same time.

"Alex? Why are you here?"

"Alex? If you were coming, why didn't you say anything?"

"Listen, your dad will explain. It's not what you think. Your mom, she—"

Panic flashed across both my parents' faces.

Only Vivian had something else in her eyes—calculation, and smug satisfaction. Like she'd expected this all along.

I cut them off with a mocking smile.

"The apartment I helped Vivian find—can't I stop by?"

"You were saying the baby would be left with a nanny. I wasn't comfortable with that, so I figured—raising one kid, raising two, what's the difference? Thought I'd come check in."

"Didn't realize I'd be interrupting."

Dad's explanation died in his throat.

Mom jumped in urgently. "No, it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?"

"The postpartum nanny had a family emergency and took leave. I didn't want you to worry, so I didn't mention it. I was planning to come help out for a couple days before we left, so Vivian wouldn't be anxious about the baby while she's away…"

"Then what about the photo you sent me?"

Mom's face went ashen. She still couldn't come up with an excuse.

I looked her up and down.

Other than those reading glasses, everything she was wearing came from money I'd spent at the mall.

I don't know where I wronged her. Where I wronged this family.

For them to repay me like this.

I dug my nails hard into my palm. Even my breathing was shaking.

But with a baby in each arm, I couldn't even vent.

In the standoff, Vivian smiled and looped her arm through Mom's.

"Come on, it's fate. Perfect timing, actually. We were just about to leave."

"Since you're here, come with us. I'll call a car, Dad can grab the luggage, and Mom can buy Alex a ticket."

The moment she finished, my parents' eyes lit up.

"Vivian always thinks of everything. Fine, let's do that."

"That's exactly what Mom meant! I'm just bad with words—couldn't explain it earlier."

"Alex, send Mom your ID number. I'll get you a ticket."

I lowered my eyes.

"I sent it. The day I gave birth and was hospitalized."

Mom gave an awkward laugh.

"Oh right, I forgot. I'm getting old—brain's not what it used to be. Don't hold it against me."

After that, Dad went back upstairs for the luggage, and Mom started buying tickets on her phone.