Page 131 of Discretion at Its Finest

It was silent on the other side of the line. Almost like she could sense this was a final goodbye, that she could feel this was one chance to hear her voice and know who she was before I had to disappear again.

I thought she wouldn’t say anything. I almost thought the line had cut. But as I lowered the phone, getting ready to end the call, she spoke, her voice a soft tremble but absolutely certain. And absolutely breaking me…

“…We sure will…Mom.”

By the next morning I was an absolute wreck, my mind in shambles as I tried to stay calm. Reid had left earlier in the morning, offering me to accompany him to meet more billionaires and investors in the heart of Shanghai. But I’d declined.

Because I had to figure out how to fix this. He hadn’t asked for the phone back just yet. Thankfully he didn’t ask many questions about how it went, though I wasn’t good at hiding anything from him.

I glanced down at the phone that I’d only powered back on a few moments ago.

Four missed calls from an unknown number only in the span of the last ten minutes. This phone had called only one person in its lifespan; I didn’t need caller ID to know who it was.

My daughter was calling me.

My daughter.

I stared at the screen until the calls stopped… only for the texts to continue.

Unknown

Can we please talk?

I have so many questions.

Please answer.

Are you still there?

The last message had broken me.

Is it… is it really you?

Mom?

My throat closed around a soft, helpless sound. I held the power button and the screen went black. It was cowardly, but it was all I could do. If Reid saw the notifications, if he traced the phone calls, if he even suspected the truth had slipped out during my one phone call… God, I wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He gave me one call.

And with that call, everything had changed.

Hours passed. Shanghai moved outside the windows—honking cars, neon signs, distant trains—but I was frozen inside the suite, pacing the same path across the rug, phone clutched tight in my palm like it burned.

At noon, I broke again. I turned it back on and it buzzed instantly with messages.

Again. And again. And again. It had to be getting late for her… but something told me that even if I did drag this out… she wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t sleep… she’d lay awake all night, thinking, wondering, just like I had been.

The phone rang again as my eyes closed. Against my better judgement I answered.

“Hello?”Her voice came out fast, hopeful, breathless.“Genevieve? Are you there?”

“Brielle… Sweetheart, I’m sorry but… but we can’t… we can’t talk, okay?”

Her silence sliced through me.“I’m… I’m sorry.”Her voice broke.“I shouldn’t have—”

I shook my head. “None of this is your fault. Don’t apologize. I just… I can’t…we can’t.”

“I just… I wanted to know you,”she said.“If you’ll let me.”