Harrison flinched anyway.
His gaze dropped to Noah.
The boy’s face was turned toward Lena’s coat, one cheek pressed against the cream wool.
Harrison stared at the shape of his nose, the small line of his mouth, the dark hair flattened against his head.
Something inside Harrison’s expression changed.
Recognition was too strong a word.
Fear was closer.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
Lena’s eyes hardened.
“I did.”
Vivienne reached them before Harrison could answer.
“This is exactly why you have attorneys,” she said quietly.
“Don’t let her turn this into a spectacle.”
Dana’s eyes moved to Vivienne.
“Interesting choice of words.”
Vivienne frowned.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.
Yet.”
Lena rose with Noah in her arms.
Harrison tried once more.
“Lena, if he’s mine—”
She stopped.
For the first time, there was visible emotion in her face.
Not hope.
Not grief.
Disbelief.
“If?”
Harrison opened his mouth.
She walked away before he found an answer.
The courthouse hallway had become a wall of cameras, but Dana’s team moved Lena through a side corridor before reporters could surround her.
Harrison remained inside Courtroom 7 with Frank and Vivienne.
For several seconds, none of them spoke.
Then Harrison turned to Vivienne.
“Did you know?”
Her expression barely changed.
“Know what?”
“That she was trying to reach me.”
“Harrison, you’re upset.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Frank closed his briefcase sharply.
“Do not have this conversation here.”
Harrison ignored him.
“Lena said her calls were blocked.”
Vivienne folded her arms.
“Lena called constantly after she left.
Everyone knew that.”
Harrison became still.
“Everyone?”
Vivienne seemed to realize the word had escaped before she could control it.
“Your office.
Your staff.
She was angry.”
“You told me she wanted money.”
“She did want money.
You were getting divorced.”
