“Grandma says Daddy’s real baby will be here soon.”
My daughter whispered it while staring at the ultrasound picture she wasn’t supposed to see.
Audrey went still.
Poppy was adopted. She had already noticed the hushed conversations, the way Margaret described Grant’s unborn child as “the Bennett heir,” and the way every adult in the room stopped talking whenever she walked in.
Now Grandma had told her she might soon lose her father’s room.
Margaret still believed she had control over part of the family home.
What she didn’t know was that Audrey had emptied her savings, sold inherited property, and legally bought every remaining share of Margaret’s ownership.
But the house was not the only thing Margaret wanted.
The next afternoon, Margaret arrived at the front door.
Grant’s pregnant mistress stood beside her.
Margaret didn’t greet Audrey. She didn’t look at Poppy. She simply pointed toward the hallway.
“Open Grant’s office.”
Audrey stepped into the doorway.
“No.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
“You have no right to keep us out.”
Audrey held her ground.
“Actually, I do.”
The mistress touched her stomach.
“He was going to tell you after the baby came.”
Poppy appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Tell her what?”
No one answered.
Margaret’s gaze flicked toward the locked office door. Then toward Poppy. Then back to Audrey.
That was when Audrey understood.
Their cold treatment of Poppy had never been about the child.
It had been a distraction.
While everyone focused on the ultrasound, the whispered comments, and the cruel idea that Poppy might lose her room, Margaret had been trying to get into Grant’s private documents.
Somewhere inside that office was something worth more than the house.
Something about Grant’s inheritance.
