“By blood, yes.”
He frowned.
“Not by pancakes.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
“No. Not by pancakes.”
Eli stirred, reaching for his dinosaur, which Julian had retrieved after the police cleared it from the evidence photographs.
“Mommy,” he mumbled sleepily, “don’t let the silver lady take Dino.”
I kissed his cheek.
– Nunca.
When I returned downstairs, Blake stood alone in the living room, studying a framed photograph on the mantel.
The boys were two years old in the picture, covered in finger paint.
He touched the frame but didn’t lift it.
“You kept everything,” he said softly.
“What do you mean?”
“Their lives. Their memories. Even without me.”
I folded my arms.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
He briefly closed his eyes.
“I know.”
Julian entered from the study, carrying the black folder.
“We need to talk about what Vanessa meant.”
Blake turned around.
His expression hardened.
“Ya contacté a un investigador privado de ética médica. Adrian Cho desapareció de sus registros clínicos hace tres años. Pero encontré una cosa”.
