I pulled the car onto the shoulder of the highway and put it in park.

The hazard lights blinked, casting a rhythmic orange glow on the snow-dusted pines.

“She knew,” I said, the realization settling like lead in my chest.

“She knew before she ever accepted your first date,” Marcus said.

“She knew I wasn’t infertile.”

“Exactly,” Marcus said.

“She knew Maren was pregnant with my twins,” I said.

“Yes,” Marcus said. “And she used that to force your mother’s hand.”

“How?”

“She threatened to go to the press with the medical fraud,” Marcus said.

“My mother would have been ruined,” I said.

“And Whitmore Capital would have faced a massive shareholder lawsuit,” Marcus added.

“So Eleanor agreed to the marriage,” I said.

“She did more than that,” Marcus said. “She guaranteed Celeste a thirty-percent stake in the family trust upon your marriage.”

“And Celeste kept the secret,” I said.

“Until now,” Marcus said.

I stared out at the dark highway.

The windshield wipers scraped back and forth.

My entire adult life had been a transaction between two women who claimed to care for me.