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Amara’s voice sounded as if it came from far away. “Yes. I’ve known him for some time. I told you about him. From that conference. We met at the hotel and had an argument about helping people.”
Quint’s voice in the hallway was easily heard, giving the address to the police.
Then he made a second call. They couldn’t tell to whom. The call was quick and simple — Frederik Orlando must be found immediately.
When he returned to the room, he looked at Amara and her mother. All his former frailty had fled. He stood strong and powerful.
“Frederik won’t get far,” he told the two, overwhelmed women. “He took the wrong man’s baby.”
Raneesha’s eyes went wide, her head whipping around to Amara.
Amara’s own head drooped. After a long, trembling moment, she spoke in a quavering voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Momma. Quint is Hampton’s father.”
Raneesha goggled at her before taking several fortifying sips of water.
Amara continued her confession. “Quint was there for me, and he funded my second round of field trials. You saw what happened after, though, didn’t you? The plane crash —”
Raneesha interrupted her, her brow pulled tight in confusion. “Yes, of course. Why didn’t you tell me any of this? And why were you going to give Hampton up for adoption if Quint is his father? Don’t you want your baby, Quint?”
Amara struggled for a long moment, trying to find the answer to the questions. When she examined it, she wasn’t even sure herself. Why was she ashamed of telling her mother that she’d agreed to have a baby in exchange for research funding? And that she’d agreed to such an unusual contract? Could her mother understand that Amara hadn’t truly realized what she was giving up? And then there were the lies. Lies upon lies upon lies.
Of course, she also had Quint’s privacy to consider, but she always knew that her mother wouldn’t say anything to anyone. Amara turned her gaze lower, completely trained on the floor now, shaking her head.
“Yes, Quint wanted, wants, Hampton,” Amara said. “I’m sorry, Momma. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I’m a very private person, and I suppose part of me wanted to keep everything a secret. It was easier that way.”
Quint was beside her, his hand stroking her back. “You had your reasons.”
Amara sniffed, and Quint handed her a handkerchief. It was hand embroidered with Quint’s initials. Beautiful.
She dabbed at her nose. “I’m so, so sorry, Momma. I haven’t told you everything yet, but I will. I’m just … now’s not the time. Please stop crying.”
But that only made Raneesha cry harder. “I can never forgive myself if we don’t find —”
“Don’t even say it,” Quint interrupted. “I will find my son. Have no doubt of it.”
Both women stared at him, awed momentarily by the power emanating from his person.
When the spell broke, Amara turned back to her mother.
“Can you ever forgive me?” Amara asked her mother in broken words.
“Can you forgive me?” Raneesha whispered, as if she was afraid to hear the answer.
“I love you, Momma. Nothing can change that.”
“And nothing can change how much I love you, Amara.”
Raneesha opened her arms and Amara fell into her mother’s familiar, comforting embrace, something she needed now more than she had ever needed it in her life.
The moment Raneesha’s arms encircled her, Amara finally let out the grief that had been trapped inside her from the moment she heard Hampton was gone. She sobbed freely, her mother along with her.
And Quint somehow slipped in behind them, taking both women into his strong, protective arms. If he cried along with them, neither woman saw it, though they felt the radiant heat of his grief.
They stayed that way until the police arrived.
Chapter Twenty One
IT TOOK NEARLY A WEEK, and a whole lot of leveraging and pressure for Quint to discover not only Frederik’s whereabouts, but also his connections.
