Page 71 of His Daughter

The question I'd answered before. For Officer Vasquez. For Sandra from CPS. For Margot in the supply closet. Each time, the answer got a little more honest.

"I was in shock. I recognized her. I knew I had no claim." I pressed my thumbnails together under the table. "I kept her because I couldn't let go."

Priya looked at me. Her expression didn't change. She wrote something, then slid a document across the table. "We'd like you to be prepared to testify at the hearing. This is a witness preparation agreement. It authorizes us to work with you on your testimony and confirms your willingness to appear."

I picked up the pen. The document was two pages of standard legal language with a line at the bottom for my signature. This was nothing new to me. I'd given testimony before — for clients at the nonprofit, for women in court proceedings, for housing disputes and custody battles. I sat on the other side of these tables regularly. I knew the rhythm.

But I'd never been the witness before.

I signed.

"The case is strong," Priya said, closing her legal pad. "Kira abandoned the child twice — once to the agency, once on your doorstep. Mr. Hale has legal custody granted through proper channels. He has all the means to keep Lena. Your testimony anchors the timeline and corroborates the abandonment." She looked at Declan. "We're confident."

I nodded. My stomach tightened. Confident lawyers and favorable odds. I'd sat in Janet's office with confident paperwork and favorable timing, and the phone rang anyway.

The lawyers gathered their files. Elliot closed the laptop. Priya shook my hand — firm, brief — and they moved toward the door. Declan walked them out. I heard the low murmur of his voice in the hallway, the final instructions, the closing of the front door.

Then quiet.

He came back to the living room. Lena was still in the swing, her eyelids getting heavy, the stuffed star forgotten. Declan sat beside me on the couch, leaned forward, and lifted Lena out of the swing. She grabbed his finger, her whole hand wrapping around his index finger and holding on.

He looked at me. "When this is over — the custody case, the legal fight, all of it." He shifted Lena higher on his chest, her head settling into the crook of his neck. "I want us to be a family. The three of us."

I looked at him.

"I don't want to lose you." His voice was quiet. "I'm going to get a proper house." He glanced around the penthouse. "A house with a yard. A place Lena can grow up in. A place that's ours."

He kissed me softly, his hand on the back of my neck, his daughter between us, her small fist still wrapped around his finger. He pulled back and rested his forehead against mine.

"Thank you," he said. "For being here. For not leaving when Kira showed up and the ground cracked open. For staying."

I looked at him while he talked, but I'd been meaning to go home. I'd told myself I would — after the custody filing, after the lawyers, after things settled.

I rehearsed the speech in the shower, the water running over my shoulders while the words formed, The nonprofit needs me physically present. This arrangement has an expiration date. Don't confuse temporary with permanent. I rehearsed it lying next to him in the dark while his hand rested on my hip, but I never said it.

Now he was sitting here, describing a house with a yard, and I was realizing that I'd stopped thinking of my own house as home. I couldn't pinpoint when it happened. Somewhere between the burnt toast and the bookstore or between the nursery floor at three in the morning and the flour on his cheek in the cooking class.

I wasn't going back. I'd decided without deciding, and now it was just true.

"I'm not leaving." I held his gaze. "I'm not going anywhere."

His eyes searched my face. Whatever he was looking for, he found it.

"That's all I needed to hear."

He kissed Lena's head, kissed my mouth, stood up, and laid Lena back in the swing, adjusting the strap and tucking the blanket around her legs.

"I have to go back to the Vanguard." He pulled his jacket from the back of the chair. "The custody case is one fire, but there's another one burning. Kira said someone at my company paid her off, and I need to look into that."

"And the Caine deal?"

"Falling apart. The subsidiary numbers are worse than we thought. Nolan won't wait for me to sort out my personal life before he demands answers." He shrugged the jacket on. "He shouldn't have to."

He crossed the room, kissed Lena's forehead, and kissed my mouth — longer this time, his hand on my jaw, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. He pulled back. "I'll be home tonight."

"Be careful."

He smiled — the crooked one — and left.