“You couldn’t find any record of me giving birth because the child died before it was ever born,” Evangeline said quietly, her tone calm and matter–of–fact.


    Soren froze where he stood.


    He stared at her, searching her face for any sign of pain <i>or </i>sorrow, but she looked soposed it was almost unsettling. After a moment, realization flickered in his eyes, and he let out a short, disbelievingugh. “Evangeline, you’re lying <i>to </i>me, aren’t you?”


    No mother could talk about losing her child with such detachment.


    And he knew Evangeline. She’d always craved his attention; if she had really lost a child, she would have used it to win his sympathy, sobbing and falling apart in


    front of him.


    He remembered the time she’d rescued a stray kitten. When it died after a failed surgery, she’d called him all the way overseas, barely able to form words through


    her tears.


    And now, her own child was gone, and she didn’t even bat an eye?


    Evangeline caught the skepticism in his gaze.


    Maybe it was because she’d long prepared herself for this moment, but hearing his doubt didn’t hurt anymore. She didn’t feel disappointed, just numb.


    She let out a cold, humorlessugh, said nothing further, and turned to leave.


    Soren quickly stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Evangeline, enough with the games. Tell me–where is the child?”


    He didn’t get to finish. Suddenly, a melodic ringtone sounded from his pocket.


    Soren pulled out his phone.


    Poppy’s name shed brightly on the screen.


    Evangeline saw it <i>too</i>. Figuring he’d answer, she moved to step around him.


    But to her surprise, Soren frowned and declined the call, blocking her again. “Where’s the child?” he demanded.


    Evangeline hadn’t expected him to ignore Poppy’s call. For a split second, she was stunned.


    <b>1/2 </b>


    <b>1710 </b>


    Then she gave a soft, almost amused chuckle, as if talking to herself. “If I told you I wasn’t lying, would you even believe me? Of course not. <i>So</i>, do your own digging.”


    With his resources, he could uncover any truth he wanted. It wouldn’t take much effort for him to find out that the other victim in that recent car crash was her, or


    that she’d lost the baby, or even that there was a small gravestone in the cemetery


    with their child’s name etched into it.


    He simply didn’t care enough to look.


    Once, she’d believed that there should be no secrets between husband and wife. She’d bared her true self to him, freely andpletely.


    Now she realized, honesty without love was just a cruel joke.


    Soren could hear the biting edge in her voice, but it didn’t make him angry. In fact, he almost felt likeughing.


    When had things changed so much that she thought she could lecture him?


    The old Evangeline would never have dared speak to him like this. Was she emboldened because of the child?


    The fact that the child had existed was now undeniable, so Soren stopped pressing


    her.


    He was just about to say something else when Poppy’s call came through again. This time, Soren epted.


    As soon as the line connected, Poppy’s shaky, tearful voice filled his ear. “Soren, the power’s out at the house. It’s so dark–I’m scared. What should I do?”


    Soren’s <i>tone </i>changed instantly, losing its earlier chill and softening. “Probably a blown fuse. There’s a shlight under the TV stand in the living room–grab that for now. I’ll send someone over right away.”


    “Okay, I’ll <i>go </i>get it,” Poppy replied, her voice still trembling.


    He could hear the rustle and shuffle of her footsteps as she made her way toward the living room on the other end of the line.