Page 27 of The Getaway

He looked defeated. Sitting on the bed, bent at the waist, head hanging forward, his longish hair obscuring his face. What the hell had happened to them? How had they gotten here? This was not the way this week was supposed to start.

“Can I just ask you one question?” she said.

“Shoot,” he replied, looking up, his blue eyes hopeful. God, he was handsome. Why did he have to be so freaking handsome?

“Did Lincoln really convince you we shouldn’t adopt?”

If he had, she was going to kill him. He had no business interfering in their family, especially when he’d so royally screwed up his own.

Marshall blinked. “Is that what your note said?”

Marley stood up straighter, her hand fluttering to cover her flip-flopping stomach. “How do you know about the notes? Did you get one?”

“Yep,” he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. Marley felt suddenly terrified. Had his note said something about her?

“What was in it?” she asked.

He reached into his pocket and took out a crumpled blue square, then held it out to her. She edged forward carefully, snatched the note from him, and then sat down on the bed next to him like a ton of bricks.

Marley had to narrow her eyes to read the script with all the creases in the paper and the relative darkness around them.

Lincoln is the reason your parents cut you off.

Marley experienced a full-body hot flash so violent she started shivering the second it left her.

“What?” Marley blurted.

“Marley, you’re shaking.”

“Don’t try to change the subject. Your parents cut you off? When? Why?” Her teeth began to chatter. Marshall got up, pulled her off the bed, yanked the covers down, and then steered her, hands on both arms, back down. Only after he’d tucked the covers up over her did he answer.

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“Were you going to tell me?” she demanded.

Marshall sat on the edge of the bed again, near her ankles, and sighed. “I was hoping to talk them out of it. You’ll be shocked to hear they were assholes about it. They literally just sent me the paperwork at the office.”

“Classic.” Marley scoffed and tugged the covers up over her shoulders. She concentrated on trying to stop the shivering but could only manage it for a few seconds at a time. “Did they give a reason?”

She asked the question, but she knew the reason. Marley and Marshall had always suspected this would happen eventually. The Fosters had long been offended that Marshall had chosen to go into public service rather than join his father’s real estate firm as legal counsel. The only way they knew how to deal with not getting what they wanted was to withhold money. But why now? And what did Lincoln have to do with it?

“They said since it was clear we had no intentions of having a child and carrying on the family name, they were going to ensure all the wealth stayed in the family.”

Marley slid down in the bed, trying to cocoon the shivers away. Her heart felt like it had oozed out into her chest and was now pounding against her rib cage and lungs.

“It was the day after . . .” Marshall looked at her, his eyes wells of sadness.

“After we lost Caroline.”

Caroline was the name they’d chosen for their daughter. The daughter she had held and kissed and cooed at for ten minutes before she was taken away. Hard as it was, Marley understood why Marshall didn’t tell her. She had been nonfunctional for days. This news would have only compounded her feelings of disappointment and failure and rage.

“Well, screw them,” Marley said. “We don’t need their money.”

“Yeah, we do. You know we do. We can barely afford to live in the house we live in, let alone save anything,” Marshall said. “At some point it would be nice to retire, don’t you think?”

“Don’t get sarcastic with me,” Marley shot back, indignant. “Go yell at Lincoln! He’s the one that is apparently hell bent on ruining our lives.”

“Sorry. Sorry. You’re right,” Marshall replied. He took a deep breath and blew it out audibly. “It’s just all so supremely ironic.”