Page 163 of The Wrong Brother

Emma slips her hand back into mine, appearing suddenly at my side. She looks both relieved and confused that Victoria didn’t mentionhername. The two women make eye contact, and Victoria smiles sadly, already beset upon by reporters herself.

It’s suddenly obvious that she is, in fact, the perfect politician’s wife. She fields their questions effortlessly, organizing the chaos around her even as her husband disappears beneath shouts and accusations.

Without another word, we turn away. I don’t need a victory speech. I don’t need to kill him with my bare hands.

This is just an ending among a dozen other beginnings.

* * *

Outside, the cool afternoon air feels impossibly clean after the suffocating noise inside. Shannon joins us moments later, her face pale but peaceful. The two men flanking her watch her back.

“We slipped her out the side,Shef,” one comments quietly.

“Good. She can speak if and when she wants to.”

Shannon is quiet, her lips pressed together and fresh tears already tumbling down her cheeks.

“What happens now?” she asks.

I think of Kate waiting in California. Probably watching this on the news, though I’d prefer she didn’t.

Gently, I squeeze Shannon’s shoulder.

“Soon,” I say, “you’re going to meet your daughter.”

Chapter 40

Emma

One month later

Morning sunlight streamsthrough the windows, catching on the ultrasound photos clipped beneath one of Kate’s watercolor magnets. I can’t seem to stop looking at them. Yesterday’s appointment already feels like a dream. The tiny image on glossy paper somehow represents a whole little person who has quietly changed everything.

A soft thump behind me draws my attention away.

Kate slips into the kitchen with an overnight bag slung over one shoulder, dressed in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. She smiles when she sees me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The confident pre-teen I’ve come to know suddenly looks several years younger.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

She shifts her weight awkwardly, adjusting the strap of her bag for what must be the third time in ten seconds.

I smile gently. “Come here.”

She hesitates before climbing onto the stool beside mine, tucking one foot beneath the other. Up close, the nervousness is impossible to miss.

“You okay?”

Kate lets out a long breath. “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I...” She chews on her lip for a second before the words tumble out. “What if my mom doesn’t like me?”

I blink.

“Kate...”