Julian gasped, taking an involuntary step backward.
Evelyn let out a strangled, terrified gasp, staggering against the wall as if she were looking at a ghost.
“How… how are you here?!” Julian whispered, his jaw trembling. “You didn’t have a passport! You didn’t have a phone! You had nothing!”
I walked slowly up to him, looking down at my daughter sleeping peacefully in his arms.
The social worker gently stepped in, taking Maya into a warm blanket and escorting her toward a quiet private room where my private family lawyer was waiting.
Once Maya was safely out of earshot, I leaned in close to Julian.
“You told me to figure it out myself,” I whispered, my voice completely devoid of anger—holding only cold, absolute certainty. “So I did.”
I turned my head to look at Evelyn, whose hands were shaking so hard she dropped her sunglasses onto the carpet.
