“He said a surrogate with legal rights would complicate the estate distribution.”

“He said it would dilute my voting shares in Whitmore Enterprises.”

“They hid my wife’s final wishes to protect a balance sheet,” he said, his voice breaking.

“Daniel,” I said, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Where are you now?”

“I’m in the parking garage,” he said. “I’m getting in the car.”

“But the Sinclair merger,” I said, remembering the massive deal he had spent eighteen months preparing for.

“The board is meeting in an hour,” I said. “You have to be there.”

“They can wait,” Daniel said.

“If you don’t show up, they’ll call a vote of no confidence,” I said. “You told me that yourself.”

“I don’t care about the board, Sarah,” he said.

“I care about my sons. And I care about you.”

The line went dead before I could answer.

I let my hand drop to the mattress, the phone slipping from my fingers.

Owen stirred next to me, his small hand reaching out to clutch my hospital gown.

“Is Daddy coming?” he murmured, his eyelids fluttering.