Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
I’m in a house that’s all my own for the first time in two years.
It feels like a lifetime.
I feel like a new person.
Part of it is the medication adjustment. Once I became pregnant, my body reacted to the old prescription strangely. A new medication and weekly therapy help.
The rest is just time.
I visited Mom’s grave recently. I brought flowers and talked to her, even if only in my head. My therapist says it’s good for me to do that. To remember her in healthy ways. To honor her through my grief.
The silence is different now. Clean. I don’t fear being watched. I don’t fear not being good enough.
I drop my purse by the door and exhale a full breath. Those come easier now too. It’s funny the things you take for granted.
The weight of everything I’ve been through is still here but disconnected. Like a storm passing outside a window, no longer drenching me.
I put my hand on my growing stomach. There are just a few weeks before our little girl will be here, and sometimes that still shakes me.
I’ve turned into what I always feared—a single mom, doing it on her own. But these days, it doesn’t scare me so much.
Despite the lies Pierce wants to spread, my mother was a beautiful part of my life. She prepared me for this, even if I never dreamed of doing it without her.
Over the last few months, I’ve watched as the Mornings’ world unravels.
Preston was arrested for evidence tampering and fraud.
Pierce and Rachelle face a long list of crimes—bribery, conspiracy, unlawful surveillance, illegal adoption profits.
I didn’t know it, but Vic was helping forge assessments for “unfit birth homes.” Polly was investigated for bookkeeping errors that resulted in hundreds of thousands more dollars in the family’s pockets.
Even Duncan and Marlie were involved, apparently in charge of reaching out to wealthy adopters.
The operation had worked so well, had felt so flawless, they’d extended it outside their inner circle.
There was never an end point. Never enough.
The funny thing is, if they’d left well enough alone, they might’ve stayed safe. Once I made the decision to protect Simon, I meant it with my whole being. I would’ve gone down with their ship if it meant keeping him.
But they chose the war.
And I chose to fight back.
They’re all paying the price in different ways—some through plea deals, some through indictments, Polly through a tearful confession. Her family has stepped in, and it seems like she’s cut a sweet deal for herself.
Still, they suffer. Crumble.
Everyone except Warren, who was always innocent. Or, at least, he hadn’t yet been drawn into their web.
And me?
I sit in my kitchen, sipping tea and reading updates on my social media feeds. I never changed my name. I was never part of the family business. There’ve been very few connections made to me, and even if there ever are, how could the world hate the woman who brought the truth to light?
Occasionally, guilt does try to nibble at me, softly at the edges. But then…well, I just remember the cameras. The guest house. The radio. The locked door.
I remember the testimonies of the kids who’ve spoken out so far. The ones who never knew their real names. Never knew where they came from. The ones who were told they were abandoned by their birth families, only for it to come to light now how hard they fought to get them back.
My journalist friend has been following the story closely, publishing updates as often as they come. She sends them to me each and every time.
I keep them all like tokens. Like proof. I was never crazy. I was never unwell. I was sad. I was trying.
And they took advantage of that.
I know who I am.
Not broken.
No longer afraid.
Brave. Free.
I’m done with trying to fit somewhere I don’t.
Most days, I don’t think about Simon. I served him with divorce papers six months ago, and we’ve been moving through the process effortlessly ever since.
He’s been accommodating, almost unreasonably so. And yet, I haven’t heard a word from him.
Which is why, as I sit down for dinner and a knock sounds at the door, my first thought is of a neighbor. Perhaps needing to borrow something.
Or a young girl selling cookies.
Someone who has found a lost dog and wants to see if she belongs to me.
It’s also why, as I open the door and stare into his face, something deep inside of me cracks. Something I’ve been holding in all this time. Something I thought I’d sealed shut forever.
Part of me thinks he’s waited too long. Another part thinks it hasn’t been long enough.
Not long enough to forget the way his arms feel around my body. Not long enough to forget the way it felt when he chose them over me.
“Simon.” His name is a full sentence, holding every bit of grief and love between us in equal measure.
He looks…smaller, I think. Thin. Sallow. His always-neat hair is unkempt, and his eyes are rimmed with exhaustion that looks bone-deep.
In front of me, he wrings his hands together. “My lawyer said I shouldn’t come.” His eyes fall to my stomach, tears brimming.
Slowly, I step aside. He moves like I’ve asked him to step onto hot coals.
Inside, we sit across from each other at my small kitchen table. The same one where I’ve sat and studied my ultrasounds, looking for his features.
He clears his throat, clasping his hands together. “When are you…due?”
“Two weeks.” My voice is matter-of-fact. Colder than I meant for it to be. “How did you…”
“You still have me as an emergency contact.” His smile is soft, sad. “Your doctor called me when you missed your appointment last week.”
I nod, then swallow. It makes sense.
“It’s…mine, I’m guessing. Assuming. I mean, is it?—”
“Yes.” I quiet his fears. “She is yours.”
“You weren’t going to tell me.” The hurt on his face breaks something inside me, and I work to piece it back together before I answer.
“Can you blame me?”
He looks down, hanging his head. “I’m so sorry, Astrid. I don’t even know… I… It’s all falling apart. They won’t talk to me. The lawyers won’t tell me anything about their cases. And I’m alone. Missing you. Our child.” His voice is hollow, broken.
He lifts his eyes to mine.
“I know I deserve all of this. I know I do.”
Maybe he’s waiting for me to argue, but I don’t.
I lean back, hands smoothed flat on the table. “Simon, I gave you every chance in the world to stand with me. To choose me. Tell the truth and acknowledge what they did.”
“I was scared,” he whispers. “They’re my family.”
“You were weak,” I correct. “And I was your family, too.”
He flinches.
I continue, unable to hold it in any longer.
“Do you know, if they’d just left me alone, let things stay as they were, none of this would’ve happened.
I had the evidence for years. Years, Simon.
I buried it. I protected you, protected every single one of them, because I loved you.
” I pause, my jaw going stiff as I analyze him.
My voice sharpens. “And they thanked me by trying to call me insane the moment they learned we wanted a family. They used my pain…” I can’t finish the sentence.
Don’t want to. “That day I asked you if you thought your family was hiding something, it’s because I would’ve let it go if you’d said yes.
If you’d given me any indication the girl was their secret, I would’ve dropped it.
Protected them. It’s only because I believed they were innocent—believed they loved children too much to ever hurt one—that I pushed so hard for answers.
I was all in, and they couldn’t see that.
They brought this on themselves. Because they could never fully accept me. ”
He covers his face with both hands, a heavy breath escaping his lips.
“I know. I know. God, I just…I wish I could’ve stopped them.
” He dries his eyes, leaning back. “I wish I would’ve realized what was happening.
I think in some terrible way, they were trying to protect me.
But it doesn’t make it right or…okay. I thought…
maybe now that we’re going to be parents…
maybe you’d understand. Try to. It… I love you, Astrid.
It doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. God, I love you more than…
fucking air. You’re my life. Don’t you see that?
I made a mistake. Will you make me spend the rest of my life paying for it? ”
I blink, fold my hands together, then unfold them. “You made a choice that day. And I wasn’t it.”
“I was an idiot. A selfish idiot who just wanted his parents to love him.” He scoffs, blinking up at the ceiling to stop new tears. “How stupid was I?”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. His eyes flick to mine, like I’m the sun he’s been waiting for through the storm. “I’m sorry you made a choice that ruined everything. I’m sorry they made choices they can’t take back.”
Something in him visibly breaks. I watch the moment his hope turns to ash. He covers his mouth to hide the sound, but I hear it anyway.
“I still love you,” he pleads. “I will never be able to stop. I’ve tried. I’ve tried being angry with you. I’ve tried everything. I just—I can’t. I can’t live without you. You’re my life, Astrid. You and our baby—our family. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
The sigh that escapes my lips sounds tired. It feels tired. “I could never love someone I can’t trust.” It’s a lie. I feel it, but I don’t allow it in. I can never love him again, but I’m not sure I can stop myself either.
“Is there anything I can do? Tell me what to do, name your ask, and it’s yours.
Anything. Everything. I’ll take you away from here.
To Scotland, like you always wanted. I’ll swear to cut them out of our lives completely if that’s what you want.
I’ll give up everything. Give you everything. Whatever you want, I’ll make it?—”
I stand, cutting him off. “I’m sorry, Simon. There’s nothing. You made your choice, and there are consequences for it. We all have to live with them.”
“Please—”