Harper’s POV
The next evening, I return to the mansion early for a quick change of clothes. I need to look the part of a high-level sales representative, but more importantly, I need to look like a woman who isn't falling apart at the seams.
I pull one of my nicest dresses from the closet, a peach-colored wrap dress made of heavy, high-quality silk. The color brings a much needed glow to my pale skin, but its true value lies in the way the fabric drapes. I tie the belt carefully, ensuring the overlapping silk perfectly conceals the slight bump of my lower belly. I’m only a few weeks along, but to my own eyes, the secret feels massive, written in bold across my skin.
I slide into a pair of tan leather sandals with a modest block heel, then reach for my mother’s gold ring. I slide it onto
