Now he stood before me, devastated by familiar faces he had recognized far too late.
“Noah,” I said quietly, resting my hand on the oldest boy’s shoulder. “Lucas. And Eli.”
The names seemed to strike him like physical blows.
“Noah,” he whispered.
The oldest boy frowned. “How do you know my name?”
Blake opened his mouth.
No words came.
I rose to my feet and positioned myself between him and the boys.
“We need to go.”
– No. Blake se acercó a mí. “No, Emma, no puedes alejarte de esto”.
Una risa amarga se me escapó antes de que pudiera detenerlo.
“That is rich coming from you.”
His face contorted. “Are they mine?”
The words fell between us like shattered glass.
Nearby passengers slowed down. A driver glanced in our direction. Daniel stood motionless beside the Bentley.
I lowered my voice. “Not here.”
“Are they mine?” Blake demanded again.
Noah slipped his little hand into mine.
