Chapter 199
Audrey’s POV:
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Thornton estate as I
returned from the Bailey residence, the hard drive clutched tightly in
my hand.
Without even taking off my coat, I rushed to my laptop and plugged it
in, my heart pounding with anticipation.
For hours, I scrutinized the surveillance footage, leaning closer to the
screen with each passing minute.
But my hopes quickly dissolved into frustration.
The person who took my baby had been careful.
All I could see was a blurry figure. No distinguishing features, no clear face, nothing I could use to identify who had stolen my child.
“Damn it!” I slammed my palm against the desk, the pain barely registering through my disappointment.
The walls of my room suddenly felt suffocating. I needed air. I needed
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space to think.
I made my way down to the garden, seeking solace among the
meticulously maintained flowers and shrubs.
The hard drive had been my only lead, and now it seemed as useless
as George and Eleanor.
My hands trembled slightly as I pulled out a cigarette.
I hadn’t smoked in weeks, but the stress of discovering my child
might be alive–only to hit another dead end–had broken my resolve.
I inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill my lungs before exhaling
toward the sky.
“Miss Audrey?”
Noah’s small voice startled me.
I turned to find him standing a few feet away in his play clothes, his
eyes wide with confusion.
I quickly dropped the cigarette and crushed it under my shoe, guilt
washing over me.
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In all the time I’d known him, I’d never let him see this side of me.
“Noah, sweetheart, what are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be
with Edward?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice betrayed my
embarrassment.
“Edward said you looked sad when you came home. I wanted to see if
you’re okay.”
He tilted his head, his eyes moving to the crushed cigarette. “Were
you smoking?”
Before I could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air.
“Yes, she was smoking. That’s what bad women do.”
I turned to see Amelia Harrison standing at the garden entrance, her
perfectly styled hair gleaming in the sunlight.
My heart sank. How did she end up here?
The last person I needed to deal with right now was Noah’s biological
mother.
“Children shouldn’t be around women who smoke,” Amelia continued,
walking toward us with practiced grace.
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“It’s harmful to their development.”
Her words were clearly meant to undermine me in front of Noah.
I straightened my back, ready to defend myself, but Noah spoke first.
“Who are you?” He moved closer to me, his small body positioning
itself protectively between Amelia and me.
Amelia’s face softened into her maternal expression.
“I’m your mother, Noah.”
My heart stuttered in my chest.
Of all the scenarios I had imagined for this meeting between her and
Noah, I hadn’t expected such a direct claim.
I instinctively placed my hand on Noah’s shoulder, feeling him tense
under my touch.
His small frame remained firmly planted between us, his protective
stance unwavering despite the bombshell Amelia had just dropped.
Noah’s grip on my hand tightened.
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His eyes narrowed skeptically, studying her from head to toe. “No,
you’re not.”
“I am,” Amelia insisted, her voice honey–sweet. “I gave birth to you,
my darling.”
“You were very little when I last saw you. It’s understandable that you
don’t remember me.”
Noah shook his head emphatically.
“You can’t be my mom. This face can’t make babies as pretty as me.”
I nearly choked trying to contain my laughter. Even Amelia seemed momentarily stunned by his blunt assessment.
Her confident smile faltered, her eyes darting between Noah’s
resolute expression and our joined hands.
She seemed never to have expected resistance from the child she’d
claimed as her own
After a moment of recalibration, Amelia’s expression transformed into one of practiced sorrow, her eyes glistening with tears that
appeared on command.
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“Oh, Noah,” she said softly, one perfectly manicured hand coming to
rest dramatically over her heart.
“I understand you’re confused and upset. I’m so sorry I’ve been away
for so long.”
Her gaze shifted to me, hardening almost imperceptibly.
“But I can see that someone has been filling your head with all sorts of
ideas about me.”
She took a step forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial
whisper. “Bad women do that, sweetheart. They try to come between
mothers and their children.”
For a moment, I feared he might retreat back into silence,
overwhelmed by the emotional manipulation.
Instead, he straightened his shoulders and spoke with surprising
clarity.
Noah turned to me, his expression serious.
“Audrey isn’t a bad woman. She’s the best woman. You’re the bad
woman,” he declared, pointing at Amelia.
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Amelia’s face flushed with anger. “Noah, I’m your mother. You
shouldn’t talk to me like that.”
“You are NOT my mother!” Noah’s voice rose, trembling with
emotion.
He turned toward the doorway, raising his voice. “Edward! Edward,
come here! There’s a bad lady who needs to leave!”
I knelt down beside Noah, gently turning him to face me.
His small chest was heaving with emotion, his cheeks flushed.
“It’s okay, Noah,” I whispered, my voice steady despite the chaos
swirling around us. “Deep breaths, remember?”
I nodded encouragingly, my hand making small, soothing circles on
his back.
Before Edward could appear, however, a different figure materialized
in the doorway.
Dorothy Thornton stood there, elegant as always in her tailored suit,
her silver hair swept into a perfect chignon.
Her eyes widened as she took in the tense tableau before her.
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“What on earth is going on here?” she asked, her voice cutting
through the tension.
Before I could formulate a response, Amelia glided forward, her entire
demeanor transforming as she linked her arm through Dorothy’s.
“Oh, Dorothy,” she said, her voice dripping with affected distress.
“I was just trying to reconnect with my son, but I’m afraid Ms. Lane
has turned Noah against me.”
She dabbed at invisible tears. “You can see how hostile he’s become.”
The pieces suddenly clicked into place.
Dorothy had been the one to bring Amelia here.
My heart sank as the implications washed over me. Of course,
Dorothy would want Noah to be with his biological mother.
Someone hired to help Noah, not to replace the mother he should
have had.
I felt suddenly like an intruder, an imposter who had overstepped her
boundaries by forming such a deep attachment to a child who wasn’t
mine.
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Perhaps blood ties were what mattered most in the end.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
