“Oh, right. The hospital,” I said, lifting my hand and gently touching the bandages. “I split my nall after work, so l stopped by to get it checked. Doctor said I need to keep it wrapped for three days or It might get infected.”
Total exaggeration. It was barely a crack–didn’t even bleed The doctor had looked at me like I was nuts when I asked for a bandage.
But who cared? From now on, even the sinallest part of me was worth more than all of them combined.
Stuart’s face darkened. “When did you go to the hospital?”
I tilted my head, all innocent. “Oh, when I was near Quinte Mall. That’s when I saw your message. I rushed to grab my phone, and–snap–nail split. So I just turned around and went straight to the hospital. Why?”
Not a single lie. Stuart had messaged me earlier; telling me to hurry home–hoping I’d bring Peter with me. And now, that same message had become my perfect cover.
How ironic.
His face was beyond grim. Quinte Mall was just a road away from where he’d dumped Peter. In his mind, I had almost–just almost–picked up the kid like he wanted. But instead, his own impatience had wrecked everything.
His expression twisted, panic creeping in. Then, as if something clicked, he suddenly spun on his heel and bolted for the door.
I laughed at his retreating back.
Of course. Since I hadn’t brought Peter home, that meant the kid had been lying in the cold for hours, helpless, abandoned on that empty road.
A baby, left to freeze by his own father.
