SARAH"Aunty Joy!" Liam darted past me and threw his little arms up, wrapping them around Joy's waist."My favorite kid in the whole world has grown a few inches, I see." Smiling in Joy's way, she leaned over him and ruffled his hair."I'm a big boy now," he stated, causing me to snort.I stepped toward them and pulled Liam away, freeing Joy from his tight hug. "All right, big boy. It's time for you to go to sleep.""But I'm not tired"—he yawned—"Mommy. I can stay"—he yawned again—"a little longer."I crouched in front of him and smiled. "Your sleepy eyes prove something different."He pouted and lowered his gaze. "But Aunt Joy is here…""Yes, and I will stay here for a while so you can see me in the morning," she assured, giving him a little wink.His eyes widened and all but sparkled. "You will live with us here?"I chuckled. "Yes, your favorite Aunty decided to stay with us for a while."Liam sighed and nodded. "All right. If Aunty Joy is staying, then I think I can go to sleep now

SARAH I balanced on the chair placed on top of the table while painting a sunflower right below the ceiling of the orphanage's common room. I was in that freaking room alone because… well, the kids from art school decided not to show up. Since Sister Rita had already bought paints and brushes, and I didn't want the kids to be disappointed, I was currently playing Van Gough, minus all the craziness and cutting the ear. Dressed in sneakers, jeans shorts, a sweatshirt, a baseball cup on my head, and with no makeup on, I had already been mistaken for a high schooler three times, and the party for the donors was only just beginning. Of course, the real awkwardness began when Liam appeared and called me Mommy in front of confused guests… This was going to be a long day. I had finished painting the yellow and orange petals and needed to rearrange my fragile construction. I jumped down and slowly pushed the table with the chair, careful not to spill the paint standing on it all over the flo

SARAH"He knows!" I leaped to my feet, tossing the phone on my desk. I threw my trembling hands forward as I rushed to the sofa where Joy was sitting, drinking coffee. "I don't know how, but Alex knows!" The pitch of my voice went up and died on the last note with a strangled wheeze.Joy's eyes rose from the coffee cup and she studied me for a moment. "Do you need to hyperventilate?"I slumped down beside her and shook my head. "I don't know how he found out, but he knows that it's me!" I pointed at myself as if there was some other "me" in the room. "He knows that Sarah Hill—that I am the one whom he spent the night with! God!" I clamped my hand over my mouth, my eyes widening."What?" Joy raised her brows."Liam… H-he knows about Liam. That is why he wants to meet with me…" The panic mode activated and started to fill every inch of me. Blood rushed through my veins at double speed. Shivers ran down my spine, wave after wave, while my stomach churned. "He will try to take my son away

I hadn't slept that night. I couldn't even think about sleeping. At ten in the morning, I stepped in front of the Ravenford Corporation Building and made an official announcement to the press. The announcement focused on the death of Robin McKinney, the security guard who worked for our company. I spoke of a vicious attack at the future workplace of hundreds of people. I told them about the grief and the support we, as the company, had promised Mr. McKinney's family. And then I lied… I told everyone that we had yet to learn who might have done it.The detectives suspected that Bram Hill might have been hiding somewhere in New York City and they didn't want him to know that he had been identified as a murderer. The last thing the police wanted was to make him flee to another state like they assumed he did five years ago. Certainly, the detectives checked on all those who had known him before, asking if anyone had seen him recently. No one said anything. Then it was time to question his

ALEX My eyes were locked on the woman standing on the stage, and I felt blown away. I rarely had that feeling, but it occurred the moment her chest rose with a deep breath and she began to speak. I was stunned by the way she exposed herself as if she had nothing to hide. She talked about her past effortlessly, even though I could feel the weight of her words expressed in the brief tensing of her jaw and creasing of her forehead. Funny… I asked for a detailed report about her, but I felt that she had just given me more information than my specialists could gather. Then my mind drifted to everything that had happened before her speech, and restlessness built inside me. It was something I couldn't fathom. I had imagined our confrontation many times. I had imagined she might be confused, uncomfortable, perhaps scared, but not angry. What I saw in her eyes then in the corridor was far from what I had expected. She seemed… hurt. Why the fuck would she be hurt when she was the one who asked