Chapter 1 - THE FALL
My fifteen-month-old son was already falling when I opened the front door.
“NOAH!”
His tiny body rolled down the last three steps before I could reach him.
I dropped my briefcase and ran.
Noah was screaming.
Not the irritated cry he made when he was hungry. Not the tired cry he made before bed.
This was terror.
Pure terror.
I dropped to my knees and pulled him carefully against my chest.
“I’ve got you. Daddy’s here. I’ve got you.”
His little fingers grabbed my shirt.
Then I looked up.
My mother stood at the top of the staircase.
Margaret Mercer was sixty-one, perfectly dressed, silver-blonde hair pinned behind her ears, not one wrinkle in her navy dress.
She looked like she had just watched someone spill a glass of wine.
Not a child fall down a staircase.
“What happened?” I demanded.
She started walking down.
“No need to be dramatic.”
My blood went cold.
“What happened?”
Noah buried his face against my neck.
Margaret stopped three steps above me.
“He was where he didn’t belong.”
I stared at her.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Her lip curled.
“It means a bastard like him doesn’t belong in this house.”
For one second, the whole room became silent.
Then I understood.
“You touched him.”
Margaret said nothing.
“You pushed my son.”
“He isn’t your son.”
“He is.”
“You have no proof.”
That almost made me laugh.
Almost.
Instead, I stood with Noah in my arms.
Margaret’s eyes dropped to the inside pocket of my coat.
She noticed the corner of the folded document sticking out.
And for the first time, her expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
I reached into my coat.
“You’re right about one thing.”
Margaret took one step backward.
“We should talk about proof.”
I pulled out the paper.
Her face lost its color.
I unfolded it slowly.
Then I looked directly at her.
“Let’s see whose name is written on this paper.”
I tossed it onto the marble floor.
Margaret stared down.
Her mouth opened.
“No.”
The document had come from my grandfather’s attorney that afternoon.
A document my mother had spent twenty-eight years making sure I never saw.
And at the bottom of the first page was a name that should have meant nothing to her.
Noah Mercer.
Margaret looked up at me.
May you like
Then she whispered something that made my stomach drop.
“He was never supposed to live long enough to inherit it.”
