“None of this is your fault,” I told her. “And Mom—I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” Mom explained that she had parked on the street outside my apartment, and when she went to get out of the car, a woman had shoved her back inside and held a foul-smelling cloth over her mouth. She had woken up several hours later after passersby had pounded on the window for quite a while, finally calling 911 when she wouldn’t respond. Other than falling unconscious, she was unharmed. “It’s you I’m worried about,” she said, taking in the sight of the bandages on my face and feet. But she held my face in her hands and pressed her forehead to mine. “You are so strong, my darling Savannah. You’ll get through this. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”
“Speaking of which—there’s someone you need to meet,” I said with a huge smile as Nurse Gail returned with my son. She had cleaned him up and put him in a plain white onesie with the tiniest pair of socks I’d ever seen, and a little cap to keep his head warm.
Ellie’s smile grew three sizes, and Mom’s eyes filled with happy tears as they both got their first look at my little bundle of joy.
I gingerly handed the baby to my mom. She pulled back the blanket he was swaddled in, marveling at how tiny, soft, and precious he was. “He’s just so perfect,” she said in complete awe, as a tear slid down her cheek. “Absolutely perfect.”
Ellie peered over Mom’s shoulder, gently squeezing the baby’s tiny foot and smiling down at him as she made cooing noises. “So, what are you going to name this little guy?”
I was speechless for a moment. With everything that had been happening, I hadn’t even begun to think up possible names. “Geez, I have no idea. Any thoughts?”
“Well, the names Max Jr. and Charlie are right out,” Ellie said sarcastically. “What about Rick? I always liked that name. You can call him Ricky for short while he’s young, which is adorable.”
As Mom beamed down at her grandson, she said, “You need something that reflects how strong and resilient he is.” She gently bounced, rocking the baby in her arms. “The names Evander and Gabriel both mean ‘strength.’ ”
I laid my head back on the pillow as I pondered her suggestions. “I love that, Mom. We can definitely all use some strength right now. Evander is a great name … Evan Mitchell.” Just saying the words prompted my lips to stretch into a smile. I took that as a sign.
“Oh, I love it!” Ellie said with a huge grin as she looked down at him. “Welcome to the world, Evan Mitchell.”
Though I was reluctant to hand my son back to the nurses, even I had to admit that my poor, beaten and bruised body needed some rest. Ellie took Mom back to my apartment for a while, and they promised to come back later.
Barely a few minutes after they left, there was another knock on my door. Nurse Gail came in, joined by a police officer.
“Miss Mitchell, there’s someone here who would like to speak with you,” the nurse said. The police officer stood behind her, watching me, his hands resting on his utility belt.
“Who is it?”
“An attorney.”
“Oh! Is it Alex Hirsch?” I asked, wondering if it was my public defender.
“No … he says he’s an attorney for a Charles Clark.”
Charles … as in Charlie … Clark.
Madison’s father.
CHAPTER39
MY BODY TINGLEDwith dread at the sound of that family’s name. What new part of the plan was this? Was it not truly over?
“Are you okay with that? This officer said he can remain in the room with you if you prefer,” Gail said. “And you don’t have to speak with him if you don’t want to.”
I bit my lip, trying to stay calm by breathing slowly in and out. Part of me never wanted to see, hear, or speak to anyone from the Clark family ever again. But a stronger part of me clawed itself to the surface, stomping on my fear and hesitation.I want this to be over, once and for all. I want to look into this guy’s face and make it clear that family will never get anywhere near my son. So let him say whatever it is he wants to say and then make it clear you are never to hear from any member of that family ever again, my conscience insisted.
“I’ll see him—but yes, please stay,” I asked the officer. He nodded.
A middle-aged man in a suit carrying a briefcase walked in. “Hello, Ms. Mitchell, my name is Dwight Easterwood. I represent the Clark family.”
My eyes darkened. The idea that anything that family had done to mine could be at all defensible made angry fireworks go off inside my brain. But the man’s next words surprised me.
“First of all, I wanted to let you know that I’ve spoken with the district attorney in San Francisco, and all charges against you have been dropped for the assault against Madison Hunter. You have also been cleared in the disappearance of Jenna Martin.”
Once I’d absorbed what the man had said, a sigh of relief escaped my body. Until that moment, I had completely forgotten about my pending legal troubles.
“I was also asked to pass along my client’s sincere apologies for everything his wife and daughter put you through. Mr. Clark was unaware of … well, everything. As far as he understood, his wife and daughter had entered into a legal surrogacy agreement arranged by a legitimate agency. He would like to express his deep remorse about that. He wanted me to let you know that all of your medical bills are being covered by the family, one hundred percent.”
