Felicia froze, then smiled in a way that made my stomach twist.
“You are only hired help,” Felicia said. “No one will believe a girl with no family name. The doctors already think Isaiah is unstable. Once Trevor accepts he cannot handle both children, custody will come to me. The trust follows. The company follows. Everything follows.”
Grace’s voice shook but did not break.
“I was on duty in the hospital the night Brielle died,” she said. “She told me she was afraid of you. She said if anything happened to her, someone had to watch over her children. I promised I would. I changed my job, my records, my life to stand here. I will not leave them.”
Felicia stepped forward and raised her hand.
I did not think. I ran.
The hallway blurred as I sprinted, my bare feet striking cold marble. I burst into the nursery and caught Felicia’s wrist before her hand landed.
She gasped. Grace stepped back, clutching Isaiah. Aaron began to cry.
I looked into Felicia’s eyes and said quietly, “The cameras record everything. Security is on their way. The police are already being called.”
Felicia went pale. Grace sank to the floor, breathing hard, still rocking the baby.
When the authorities arrived and led Felicia away, the penthouse finally fell silent again. The storm outside had passed, leaving only rain tapping against glass. I sat on the nursery floor beside Grace, surrounded by cribs and soft blankets and the scent of milk.
Isaiah slept peacefully against Grace’s shoulder. For the first time since birth, he was not crying.
I spoke without looking at her.
“How did you know Brielle’s song.”
Grace smiled sadly.
“She sang it to them when they were still in the hospital. She told me that love is a kind of medicine that cannot be written on charts. I did not want her children to forget her voice.”
I closed my eyes. In that moment, I realized how blind I had been. I built a fortress of money and glass, but never learned how to build a home of trust. I doubted the wrong person. I invited a predator inside while suspecting the guardian who stayed in the dark to keep my children alive.