Chapter 3

Ignoring the headmaster, I walked straight past them to the wooden bench against the wall where my four-year-old son sat.

Finn wore his navy school blazer, small legs dangling off the edge, clutching a blue folder against his stomach.

When his eyes caught mine, he froze. His head turned first toward Larkin, checking her face, before he looked back at me.

"Finn," I whispered, dropping to my knees on the cold floor.

That was all it took. Finn let go of his folder and threw his arms around my neck.

My shoulders shook. Pulling his warm body against my chest, I buried my face in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby," I sobbed quietly. "Mommy's here."

Finn pulled back, dark eyes wide. "Mommy, are you staying? Are you coming home?"

My throat locked up.

Reaching into his blazer pocket, Finn pulled out a crushed strawberry candy wrapped in sticky plastic and pressed it into my hand.

"Don't cry, Mommy. Mommy likes strawberries. I saved it for you."

His small hand patted my cheek. I closed my eyes, pressing his sticky fingers against my skin.

"Thank you, sweetie," I choked out.

Beside us, Larkin cleared her throat, heels clicking sharply against the marble. "Finn. Stand up, please."

Finn flinched, fingers tightening on my coat sleeve. He kept his eyes locked on mine.

Unclasping his other hand, he handed me a crayon drawing from his folder. On the right side, Finn had drawn Sullivan and Larkin standing in front of a golden house. On the far left, behind a thick, scribbled black line, was a single, tiny figure in blue.

"Who is this, sweetie?" I asked softly.

"That's you," Finn whispered.

At the bottom of the page, the teacher had written down his exact words: "Daddy said Miss Larkin will be looking after me now. Mommy lives somewhere else."

A sharp pain hit my chest. "Did Daddy say that, Finn?"

Finn shook his head, darting a nervous glance at Larkin. "Miss Larkin said it while Daddy was on the phone. Daddy heard her, but he was busy reading paperwork."

My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. A text from Sullivan: "Stop making a scene in front of the board staff, Iris. Let Larkin bring him to the estate while the custody papers clear."

Before the anger could settle, the phone vibrated again. A blocked number—a private line I hadn't seen ring in eight long years.

The screen flashed in the dim light. Beside me, Larkin frowned.

I stared at the numbers as silence swallowed the hallway.