Was Madison’s goal to have DCS take Savannah’s child away from her? I could understand how Madison could be jealous—after all, it was the same way I’d felt toward her for a long time. But wouldn’t all of this backfire on Madison eventually? Wouldn’t Max hate her for what she was doing? Or maybe she was trying to hurt Max too, as revenge for sleeping with Savannah? I had to find out—what exactly was it that Madison wanted?
When Madison posted to social media that she and Max were going to be parents soon, “by unconventional means,” I got a very dark feeling in my bones. I remembered how Leslie at the country club had said Madison had been researching surrogacy. Suddenly, a horrible suspicion occurred to me.
Maybe Madison saw Savannah as the perfect surrogate.
I had to do something to help Savannah, but what? For a while, I set my hopes on the lawyer Ellie connected Savannah with—Robert. He’d fix everything, right? And then, Madison’s mother came in for the kill. If I didn’t hate Madison so much, I might have been impressed at her cleverness in creating the perfect conflict of interest at Robert’s firm.
Time was running out; Savannah’s due date was getting close, and Madison was getting her way at every turn.
I couldn’t just stand by and let Savannah lose her baby—after all, if I hadn’t lost my baby, it might have been me in her situation, with Madison and her greedy family ruiningmylife.
Unfortunately, I ran out of time. One night, as I was hanging out with Savannah at her apartment, who should come by?
Max.
I knew my charade was ruined the second Max saw me sitting there on Savannah’s couch. His eyes went wide, the blood drained from his face. It was the first time he had set eyes on me since the day I told him our baby was gone.
I’d been found out. My friendship with Savannah was obviously no coincidence.
Now Max and Madison would know I was on to them.
It was down to the wire, and I had to move fast. We needed proof to expose Max and the Clarks.
At this point, I knew Madison wasn’t operating alone. She had her mother, Nora Clark, behind her, greasing the wheel at every turn. I’d seen the nasty message Nora sent Savannah,threatening to “end her” if she didn’t back down and admit that Madison would be the better mother for Max’s baby. The woman was more than a little terrifying.
It was time to learn more about Nora Clark.
It was easy to find Nora online—she wanted to be found. A partner in a prominent real estate firm in Marin County, Nora represented elite properties, from swanky apartments and classic homes in the city, to sprawling estates on the upper peninsula, to modern McMansions in the surrounding Bay Area suburbs. According to an interview in a local business publication from years ago, her mother had also been a well-known real estate agent, and had taught her everything she knew.
In the article, Nora talked about her only child, her daughter Madison, who was fourteen years old at the time—a freshman at Woodgrove High.
Her husband, Charles Clark the third, was a partner in the family law firm started by Charles the first, his paternal grandfather. Though his name was still on the wall, these days it appeared Madison’s father was mostly just a board member who consulted from time to time. The rest of the time, he could usually be found on the golf course at the Marin County Country Club, or even more likely, sitting at the club’s well-stocked bar. These days, it was his wife that held the family spotlight.
I started to plan my next alias—a wealthy prospective buyer in the market for a home on the upper peninsula.
I decided to go stay with my mother for a couple of days in Walnut Creek and slip away at some point to go visit Nora at her firm’s offices.
As I was getting ready to leave my mom’s, I changed into the same outfit I’d worn to the country club; it was time to play thepart of the rich girl again. I scheduled an appointment with Nora at her office using my Woodgrove High alias, Samantha Henry.
I was almost there when Nora’s secretary called to say Nora was running late getting back to the office from a home appraisal, and to ask if we could push our appointment out forty-five minutes. I said it wasn’t a problem, and asked if she could recommend a coffee shop nearby. She said the Starbucks one block east of the office was the closest thing.
The coffee shop was busy. As I stood in line to order, I read through some new messages in the group text between me, Savannah, and Ellie. Ellie was trying to get a final headcount for the baby shower she and Savannah’s mom were throwing for her the following Sunday. I was about to reply that I wouldn’t miss it when the line shifted forward—and my breath caught in my throat.
There, behind the counter, was Melanie Daniels, the DCS employee sent to investigate Savannah’s pregnancy—and she was making espresso.
CHAPTER28
WITH MY MOUTHhanging open, I watched as Melanie—if that was even her real name—poured espresso into a cup, added milk, popped a lid on it, and called out a customer’s name. She set it down on the pickup counter at the other end of the bar and then looked up, and locked eyes with me.
She appeared to recognize me right away—from Savannah’s apartment, the day of her surprise visit.
As she stared at me, clearly in shock, I quickly snapped a picture of her with my phone. She flinched, then bolted for the back kitchen.
What should I do now?My mind raced, and my heart pounded in my chest. The line shifted forward. It was my turn. I ordered a latte and then shifted down the bar to the pickup counter.
There’s no way I’m leaving here without talking to her.I tapped my foot as my eyes burned a hole in the kitchen door. She had to come out eventually, right? But several minutes went by, and she didn’t reappear.
As another barista handed me my latte, I blurted out, “Excuse me—was that Melanie Daniels I saw? We went to high school together. I’d love to say hello. Is she still here?”
