“Ruth said she has a duplicate copy of the contract.”

“If I can get to her, we have everything we need.”

I squeezed her hand once, then turned and ran out of the room.

The hospital corridor was long and sterile.

My leather shoes squeaked loudly against the polished floor.

I bypassed the elevators and took the stairs three at a time.

Outside, the night air was freezing.

A heavy autumn rain was falling, blurring the lights of the parking lot.

I got into my SUV and started the engine.

The headlights cut through the downpour as I sped out of the hospital gates.

The drive to the estate usually took twenty-five minutes.

I did it in fifteen.

The tires splashed through deep puddles on the narrow, winding country roads.

My mind was racing.

Vance had been our family attorney for nearly a decade.

He had handled my father’s estate, my marriage contract, and the surrogacy.

I had trusted him with every secret I possessed.

To know he was now tearing my home apart for money made my blood run cold.