Daniel turned the volume up by two clicks.
For several seconds there was only the muffled sound of music from the ballroom and the rustle of Amelia’s wedding dress.
The camera did not show the entire bridal suite.
Most of the room was blocked by the service door.
But the microphone near the hallway picked up enough.
Caroline’s voice came first.
“Did he sign everything?”
Amelia answered immediately.
“Yes.
The transfer is complete.
Preston thinks it’s just the wedding gift.”
My stomach tightened.
On the video, Caroline stepped farther into the room.
I could see one side of her face and the silver sleeve of the dress I had helped zip that afternoon.
“Keep your voice down,” she said.
Amelia clutched the cream-colored deed folder to her chest.
“I did exactly what you told me.
I smiled.
I thanked him.
I didn’t say anything.”
Caroline’s voice sharpened.
“And Preston?”
“He doesn’t know.”
There was a pause.
Then Amelia added four words that made the room around me disappear.
“He thinks it’s his.”
Daniel looked at me but said nothing.
I stared at the laptop.
For a few seconds I could not make the sentence mean what it obviously meant.
My mind kept searching for another explanation because the real one was too ugly to accept all at once.
He thinks the house is his?
No.
The deed was in both their names.
He thinks the money is his?
No.
Then Caroline answered.
“And he needs to keep thinking the baby is his until you’re married and settled.”
I gripped the edge of Daniel’s desk.
The wedding music continued faintly behind their voices.
Somewhere beyond that door, my son was laughing with his friends, carrying a champagne glass and believing he had just married the woman who loved him.
Inside the bridal suite, his mother and his bride were discussing how long to keep him ignorant of the truth.
Amelia’s voice trembled.
“I hate lying to him.”
Caroline gave a short, impatient laugh.
“You should have thought about that before you got pregnant.”
I closed my eyes.
That sentence was worse than shouting.
Worse than cruelty delivered in anger.
Caroline sounded practical.
Annoyed.
As though my son’s entire future were an inconvenience she was managing.
Amelia whispered, “What if he asks for another test after the baby comes?”
“Then we deal with that later.”
“How?”
“One crisis at a time.
Right now you are his wife, the property is transferred, and James has spent too much making this marriage look perfect to question it immediately.”
