our door. We’re done with you, too. All of us, including Ellie.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before the boiling rage inside me bubbles out of my lips. It’s what he wants: to bait me. He’s done it for years. Dangling Ellie over my head is the number one move in the MacLaine playbook. It’s how they’ve kept me quiet.
For one moment, I’m tempted to lunge at the bait, afraid that he’ll make good on this threat. I grasp the clover charm tighter and remember every promise Sterling made that we’ll protect Ellie no matter what. I mash my lips into a thin line to keep myself from screaming, knowing he’ll just use it against me.
“You really hate us that much?” he asks after a prolonged silence.
Winter five years ago
Six weeks. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve gotten more than three hours of unbroken sleep. Probably longer, given that I’d woken up every hour to use the bathroom starting at eight months. My eyes droop and I lean back in the recliner, a curved pillow propped carefully with two other cushions on my lap and a sleeping newborn on it. Ellie fell asleep nursing, but her lips continue to form tiny O-s in her sleep. I’m afraid to shut my eyes, worried she’ll fall or roll. Putting her on my chest would be a better solution, but I’m even more afraid she’ll wake up. Her eyelids flutter in her dreams and a sleepy smile flashes across her face.
And then I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll miss moments like this—precious, perfect moments that are slipping away too fast.
“You should get some rest. I can take her,” Felix offers.
But I shake my head, determined to power through. “I want to watch her sleep. She smiles. See.”
Felix leans over and catches another grin. This one looks not unlike she’s had too much to drink and passed out. Milk drunk.
“She’s flirting with the angels,” he whispers.
“What?” I say with a soft laugh.
“That’s what my mother used to say when a baby smiled in its sleep.” He straightens and turns an appraising eye on me. “You need more rest, Adair. You’re still recovering.”
“I’m fine,” I lie. The truth is that I’m so tired that it feels like an anchor’s dropped inside my skull and it’s trying to drag my eyelids down. It takes work to keep them open.
“You lost a lot of blood,” he reminds me, bending to carefully take Ellie from my lap. She stirs, arching her body, her neck straining, before settling sleepily onto his shoulder to continue her nap.
The day after my twentieth birthday, Elodie Anne MacLaine arrived in the world with only two settings: sleeping angel and diva. She’d been set to diva upon entrance, getting stuck on her way out as if to make it clear she was going to live life on her own terms starting from day one. Since then, she’s displayed enough MacLaine stubbornness to further cement her status in the family. Although, I suspect she gets a fair amount from her father as well. The incident unfortunately resulted in a hemorrhage that required a blood transfusion and a longer than typical hospital stay. Felix has been hovering over me ever since.
“I can rest later,” I say, even though the idea of crawling into bed is gloriously tempting.
“Rest now,” he orders, rocking back and forth on his feet.
I grip the arms of the chair, but I can’t bring myself to stand up.
“She’ll still be here when you wake up,” he promises. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“I know.” But my lip quivers. She might be here in a few hours, but the truth is that I don’t know how much longer I have with her. I drag myself to the bedroom, climbing into bed around the baby cot attached to its side, and curl into a ball. Closing my heavy eyes, exhaustion overcomes me but I can’t sleep. Every ounce of me aches for it even as my brain switches to overdrive.
I’d had the finest medical care money could buy, Felix stayed with me the entire time, and everyone agreed that it was best for the baby to nurse for the first few weeks while Ginny and Malcolm prepared to take her home to Windfall. Moving into the family home had been one of my father’s conditions. I suppose he half expects one of them to slip up and reveal the truth—that the baby isn’t really theirs. Or maybe he just needs