Chapter 8 - THE WRONG KIND OF LOVE
Gabriel reached the hospital in eleven minutes.
Claire stood barefoot in the security office, an IV bandage still taped to her wrist.
“She said she was taking her to get breakfast,” Claire told him. “A nurse heard her.”
On the screen, Vivienne held Léa’s hand.
The little girl carried her drawing.
“She knows you’re his mommy,” Claire said, looking at Gabriel. “That’s why she went.”
He could barely breathe.
Daniel called police while hospital security pulled footage from the parking garage.
Gabriel dialed Vivienne.
No answer.
He called again.
On the third attempt, she picked up.
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Bring her back.”
“Gabriel, you’re frightening everyone over nothing.”
“You removed a child from a hospital without her mother’s permission.”
“I took my granddaughter for breakfast.”
He closed his eyes.
Yesterday, she had questioned whether Léa was his.
Now she was her granddaughter.
“Tell me where you are.”
“Come to the house. Alone.”
“No.”
“Then perhaps we need to discuss your judgment before you take responsibility for a child.”
The line went dead.
Claire heard enough from his face.
“I’m going.”
He didn’t argue.
At the Valmont house, a housekeeper opened the door before they rang.
“Where’s Léa?” Gabriel asked.
“The breakfast room.”
They found her at a table too large for a child, staring at a plate of untouched eggs.
She saw Claire and burst into tears.
“Mommy!”
Claire crossed the room and gathered her up.
“I thought you said it was okay,” Léa sobbed. “She said you were resting.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
Vivienne stood by the window.
“Look what you’ve done. She was perfectly calm.”
Gabriel stepped toward her.
“Don’t.”
His voice was quiet enough to make the housekeeper leave.
“You lied to her.”
“I’m trying to establish some order.”
“She is not a meeting you can reschedule.”
Vivienne looked at Claire.
“You’ve enjoyed this, haven’t you?”
Claire shifted Léa against her hip.
“My daughter was missing. There is nothing about this I enjoyed.”
Two police officers appeared in the hallway with Daniel.
Vivienne’s face hardened.
“You called the police on your own mother?”
Gabriel looked at Léa’s wet cheeks.
“Yes.”
As an officer began asking questions, the housekeeper touched Claire’s arm.
“I think you should have this.”
She pressed a small envelope into Claire’s hand.
May you like
Inside was a photograph of Léa outside her preschool.
Taken three weeks earlier.
