Chapter 153 153

Chapter 153 153
EMILY

"Really, Ryan?"

The warmth of Ryan's embrace disappeared the instant he loosened his arms around me, and I took a small step backward before turning toward the doorway where Miranda stood watching us with an expression that looked as though she had just witnessed the greatest betrayal of her life.

She was dressed far more elegantly than anyone visiting a police station had any reason to be, and her hand rested possessively over the gentle curve of her stomach as though she wanted everyone in the building to remember exactly who she claimed to be carrying.

For a brief moment, nobody spoke.

Miranda's eyes swept over my face before drifting toward Ryan, and the tight smile that appeared on her lips looked more forced than genuine.

"Oh," I said quietly, allowing my gaze to settle on her. "Miranda."

She smiled, though there wasn't an ounce of warmth behind it.

"Yes," she replied. "It's me."

Without waiting for another invitation, she walked toward us until she was standing beside Ryan, then reached out as though claiming territory by placing both hands on his shoulders.

Ryan reacted almost immediately.

He shrugged her hands away without so much as looking at her, the movement so effortless that it almost seemed instinctive, before slipping one of his own hands into the pocket of his trousers instead.

For the first time since she'd appeared, Miranda's smile faltered.

I noticed the movement.

So did she.

Almost absentmindedly, she lowered one hand to her stomach and rubbed it gently, her fingers moving in slow circles as though reminding both Ryan and me she had something there.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"I see you're pregnant."

Miranda lifted her chin proudly.

Before she could answer, Ryan spoke instead.

"She says she is."

The silence that followed became almost awkward.

Miranda shot him an offended look, clearly expecting something very different from the man she claimed would soon become the father of her child.

I looked from one of them to the other before giving a small nod.

"Well," I said calmly, "I wish you both a pleasant day."

I had barely taken two steps before Ryan's voice stopped me.

"Emily."

I paused but didn't turn around immediately.

"What?"

There was a hesitation in his voice that hadn't been there before.

"Why is my mother here?"

I slowly looked back at him.

He wasn't angry.

He looked exhausted.

Confused.

Caught between two people he cared about without understanding why they were suddenly standing on opposite sides of what felt like an invisible battlefield.

I hated that he had been dragged into the middle of it.

I let out a quiet breath.

"Ryan..." I said gently, "I'm probably the last person who should be answering that question."

His brows knitted together.

"What does that mean?"

"It means the detectives handling the investigation are in a much better position to explain what's happening than I ever could."

"So you won't tell me anything?"

"I don't think I should."

The disappointment that crossed his face lasted only a second before he lowered his eyes toward the polished floor.

"I just want to understand."

"I know."

I forced myself to break eye contact before the memories became too overwhelming.

"Where's my daughter?"

Ryan looked back up immediately.

"She's safe."

The answer eased one fear only for another to replace it.

"Where?"

He hesitated.

I could practically see the debate happening inside his head as he considered whether he should tell me.

Before he could answer, Miranda let out a dramatic sigh loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

"Oh, honestly," she muttered. "Your daughter is perfectly fine and at his place, so maybe you should stop interrogating Ryan and leave us alone."

My eyes shifted toward her.

She smiled sweetly.

The expression didn't reach her eyes.

I couldn't help smiling back.

"Miranda..."

She straightened.

"What?"

I took one slow step closer until only a few feet separated us.

"You should spend less time worrying about me...and a little more time making sure your own house is in order."

Confusion flickered across her face before something else replaced it.

Fear.

It was subtle.

Most people probably wouldn't have noticed it.

I did.

She recovered quickly enough to hide it, but not before I caught the brief panic that was all over her face. Judging by the way she'd suddenly gone quiet, my harmless little comment had landed exactly where I wanted it to.

Satisfied, I adjusted the strap of my handbag over my shoulder.

"I really do hope the rest of your day goes better than it started."

Without waiting for another response, I turned and walked away.

I didn't look back.

I didn't need to.

I could practically feel Miranda watching me all the way down the corridor.

Outside, the afternoon air felt cooler than before.

Mateo's driver noticed me the moment I stepped through the station doors and hurried around to open the rear passenger door of the SUV.

"Miss Cavendish."

I climbed inside before giving him a tired smile.

"I need you to take me somewhere."

"Of course."

I looked out through the windshield, my thoughts already racing ahead of me.

The SUV pulled smoothly away from the station, leaving everything that had happened behind us.

For the first time all day, my thoughts weren't on Cecelia.

They weren't on Ryan either.

They were on one person.

Zara.

Every minute that passed without seeing my little girl felt like another minute stolen from me, and no matter how many times Ryan promised she was safe, I needed to see her with my own eyes before I could finally breathe again.

"We're here, Miss Cavendish."

The driver's voice pulled me back to the present.

"Thank you."

He hurried around to open my door, but I was already stepping onto the driveway before he had the chance.

"I'll wait here," he called after me.

I nodded distractedly before making my way toward the front door, my heart beating harder with every step.

I reached the front door and pressed the doorbell once before clasping my hands together, suddenly realizing just how nervous I felt.

Several seconds passed.

Then footsteps approached from inside the house.

The door swung open.

For a brief moment, neither of us spoke.

"Emily?"

“Yes, it’s me, Morgan.”