Mom’s face drained of color. “What?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “And today, she was picked up by a Rolls Royce again.”
Mom waved her hand dismissively. “Delia, being picked up by a Rolls Royce doesn’t mean anything. She could have hired it for show.”
Dad turned to her sharply. “Woman, how much do you think it costs to hire a Rolls Royce? Even if she hired it, it means she has money.”
I nodded. “Dad’s right. Except… Katia didn’t hire it. It didn’t look like a rental. It looked like it belonged to her. And the car that picked her up six years ago wasn’t the same one that picked her up today with her son.”
Dad froze. “Son?”
“Yes,” I said. “She has a little boy. Aiden. He’s about five.”
Mom’s hand went to her mouth. “She… she kept the baby?”
“She didn’t just keep him,” I said quietly. “She’s rai
