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He recited all the ways to contact the news station as Arissa sagged back down onto the edge of the bed.

Philippe opened the door. No knocking. No waiting. He was dressed in a T-shirt and joggers, his face pale and dark circles under his eyes. There was someone else behind him hovering in the corridor outside.

‘Arissa? I’m sorry. I had no idea. No idea that someone would take pictures of us.’ He glanced towards the TV screen and frowned as he recognised the TV channel.

She shook her head. But before she got a chance to speak he’d crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her.

She was angry. She was upset. No, she was furious. But his actions completely and utterly disarmed her. She’d expected him to be defensive. To be apologetic.

Her body was tense. Every cell lit up in indignation. But his voice was low. She could feel the tremor in it. He was angry too. He was furious.

He waved to the door. ‘Give us a minute.’

The door silently closed.

‘I know you didn’t want this. My family knew you didn’t want to be in the public eye. They respected your wishes. I didn’t know anything about it until someone came and found me a few minutes ago. When I find out who did this...which one of our friends betrayed us...’ She could actually feel him shaking. ‘And if I’m angry, they have no idea what my mother will be like. Hell hath no fury like the Queen of Corinez.’

She pushed herself free of his grasp and sat back on the bed. Her head was swimming.

‘I want to get away,’ she said blankly. ‘I want to get away from this place and all the people in it.’

Philippe flinched as if she’d just thrown a punch. She couldn’t help her words. She needed to be blunt.

Her hands twisted in her lap. She couldn’t get any heat into them at all. Her whole body was freezing.

‘Arissa.’ He sat down next to her and she held up her hand to stop him talking.

She shivered. ‘I need to tell you something.’

She could see he wanted to say so much, but he gave a wary nod of his head. ‘Okay.’

‘I never told you why I don’t want to be in the spotlight.’ She took a few deep breaths. ‘It’s not for any scandalous reason, or anything that I’ve done wrong. It’s just a part of me that I want to stay private.’

She could tell he still wanted to talk, but she wouldn’t let him. She had to finish.

‘The safe haven project. There’s more than one reason that I’m interested in it.’

‘What do you mean?’

Arissa licked her lips. ‘I was one of those babies.’ She held her breath as she could see the pieces slot into place in his brain.

‘What?’

‘I was an abandoned baby. The story I told you about one of the babies back home—that was me. I was the baby left outside the old clinic overnight. I was the baby that nearly died. I was lucky, someone found me the next morning and I was treated in hospital. I was adopted by two great people and lived a life where I felt completely loved.’ She shook her head. ‘But I have no idea who my mother was. I have no idea if she’s still alive. I have no idea if having me put her in danger, then or even now. All I know is that I’ve never gone looking for her, and she’s never come looking for me.’

Philippe had gone so pale he looked almost grey. But she couldn’t stop talking. Now she’d started she had to get it all out.

A tear slid down her face. ‘I understand safe haven in a way that others might not.’ She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘Sometimes at night I dream of all the reasons a mother would abandon a baby—and not all of them are about the cost of healthcare. What if they’re in an abusive relationship? What if having a baby would put them more at risk? What if they’ve been raped? What if they have mental health issues? What if they are entirely alone and have no support? There are a million reasons why a mother leaves her baby.’

Her hands were shaking now as she tried to keep a handle on her emotions. ‘The safe haven project is so important to me. I go hand in hand with it. But what now, Philippe? What if the press dig deeper, they find out my background? What if I become a focal point for them and safe haven is considered some kind of gimmick, instead of the important service we want it to be? What if, when they focus on me, they intrude into my patients’ lives and families with sick children start getting harassed?’

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