The front door opened and closed, and I shot to my feet, prepared to flee. I gripped the baby tightly, body shaking with a fresh burst of fear.
“We’re in here,” Liam barked, not bothered in the slightest.
It was only Amanda, followed by Connor.
Relief sent me sagging back onto the sofa. My adrenaline-drenched body couldn’t take much more of this insanity. But I had to hang tight. I had to see this through. There was no sweeping it under the rug and pretending the incident never happened.
Santa Maria, preserve us.
“According to what I received in a text message,” the lawyer said, diving straight into business mode and losing no time, “there seems to be a dispute about an adoption.”
Linda nodded feebly. “I suppose there is. If she wants to pursue her legal right as his mother, I won’t object. But my husband will have another say in this matter. It was supposed to be a closed adoption. He’ll say our rights were violated.”
Amanda looked at me.
I wanted to tell her that I wouldn’t be able to live without this little boy, but the words wouldn’t form. Maybe she read the pain on my face. Her lips flattened, and she kept her posture ramrod straight. Unbending. My pleas would fall on deaf ears if she went against me.
“Did you sign away your parental rights willingly?” she asked, brow arched. “Or can I assume from what I’ve heard about your situation”—she flicked her hand at me, almost dismissively—“that perhaps you were coerced?”
I scoffed a laugh. “Coerced doesn’t even describe it.”
Liam rose. I followed him from the corner of my eye as he went to Connor. They spoke low, in that lilting language, animatedly moving their hands about. Liam cursed, pushed a hand through his hair, and then adjusted the mask on his face. The expression on his face didn’t feel safe.
No, NO!
I was going to crack from the whiplash of emotions hitting me.
“Well,” said Amanda, turning to Linda. “I can file a lawsuit, but it’ll be long and expensive. It’ll drain your accounts. We can go the faster route and claim neglect.”
“But I didn’t do that!” Linda gasped.
The adoptive mother turned to me, eyes brimming with fresh tears.
“It’s the first time he’s fallen off the couch,” Linda protested. “I’ve been able to put him there before, and he’s been just fine.”
“She’s not neglectful,” I breathed.
Would it be easy to fall into that narrative? Sure. And if it got me my son, I might have done it. But it was a bold-faced lie.
This woman had been good to my boy, even if she hadn’t wanted him in the first place.
“That leaves us in a tricky situation,” Amanda mused.
The damn boss babe seemed to be having a field day at our expense. She stood there, holding the course of our lives in the palm of her hand, not a thread of her expensive power suit out of place.
“You know what,” said Linda. “I’ll do what I can to help you gain rights to him, because I want to leave my husband. He doesn’t deserve to keep that beautiful boy. And when I get myself settled, I don’t ever want to change another diaper! Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Since I was thinking of leaving my husband and didn’t know what to do about the custody.”
Another blessing. It fell from heaven, straight into my lap.
I was going to pass out. The relief was going to drown me.
“That was too easy,” Amanda muttered.
I glared at her, but she wasn’t looking at me.
“My advice,” the lawyer continued, “find a better man.”
With a manic laugh, Linda shook her head. “I want to play the field. A harem of guys or nothing.”
