Jonathan went rigid.
For a second, the words didn't seem to register. They hung in the air between them, loud even in the already noisy corridor.
“What did you just say?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
Emerie's nails dug into her palms. There was no taking it back now.
“Emma is your daughter," she said again, each syllable clear. “Your child. Your blood."
The security guards looked at each other. A nurse nearby froze with a chart in her hands. Even the beeping from Linda's machines seemed suddenly too sharp.
Jonathan stared at her, color draining from his face. “You're lying."
“I wish I were," she said. “My life would be so much easier."
“How?" he demanded. “You disappeared. You never called. You show up years later with a child who might be mine and think you can just throw th
