She approached Aaron’s crib and tilted the dropper toward the bottle. Grace stood up immediately, still holding Isaiah. “Stop,” Grace said. “I switched the bottles earlier. That one has only water. What you put in the other bottle is still in the trash. I saw it yesterday.” 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.
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