For the first time, she paused.
That pause had answered more than any confession.
“He knows what needs to happen,” she said.
But she hadn’t answered the question.
Back in the mall, I looked at her and wondered how many of her lies I had built my life around.
“You’re right,” I said. “This should be private.”
Relief flashed across her face.
Then I added, “But not with you.”
Her expression tightened.
Damien stood slowly. “Mara, I need to know.”
I looked at my sons, then at the man who had missed their entire lives.
Not because of one conversation.
Not because of one mistake.
Because of a hundred decisions made by people with money, pride, fear, and secrets.
“You want the truth?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then come to the children’s garden near the east entrance. Ten minutes. Alone.”
Vivienne’s eyes sharpened. “Absolutely not.”
