took Noah gently from her.

Celeste’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re becoming possessive.”

“I’m doing my job.”

“Your job ends whenever I say it does.”

Leah glanced at the folder.

One sheet had shifted partially outside.

She couldn’t read everything, but she saw enough.

Temporary placement.

Leah’s stomach tightened.

That night she tried Margaret Sloan again.

This time the attorney answered.

“Leah? I’ve been trying to reach you.”

Leah sat upright on the edge of her bed.

“I’ve called you four times.”

Silence.

“Those calls never reached my office.”

Leah looked toward the closed bedroom door.

“Margaret, did Elise sign a document giving Celeste placement authority over Noah?”

“Absolutely not.”

Leah closed her eyes.

There it was.

The confirmation she had been afraid to receive.

“There is a document here with Elise’s signature.”

Margaret’s tone changed immediately.

“Do not confront anyone.

Photograph it if you can do so safely.

And listen carefully: Elise executed a new estate plan eleven weeks ago.

Graham was supposed to receive formal notice after the birth.

I was prevented from reaching him because several communications from my office were apparently intercepted through the family office.”

Leah stared at the floor.

“What does the estate plan say?”

Margaret hesitated.

“I won’t discuss privileged details over the phone.

But I can tell you this: Noah’s interests are extensively protected.”

Leah remembered Celeste’s sudden urgency to move the baby.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes.”

“The deposit box?”

Margaret went silent.

Then she said, “You have the key.”

It wasn’t a question.

Leah’s pulse quickened.

“Elise gave it to me.”

“Then do exactly what she instructed you to do.”

“She told me to give it to Graham when he was alone.”

“Then that’s what you should do.”

Leah didn’t get the opportunity.

The following morning, Graham left before sunrise for a meeting in Boston connected to Elise’s estate.

By breakfast, Celeste knew about the key.

Leah never learned whether Celeste had overheard the call or discovered something during the earlier room search.

She only knew that when she entered the dining room carrying Noah that evening, Celeste was waiting.

Rain battered the windows.

Dinner had been laid out for twelve despite there being no guests.

Celeste stood at the head of the table.

“You’re leaving tonight.”

Leah stopped.

“Graham didn’t dismiss me.”

“Graham doesn’t need to.”

“Then I’m staying.”

Celeste gave a humorless laugh.

“You really think you’re part of this family now?”

Leah held Noah closer.

“This isn’t about me.”

“Everything becomes about you when you refuse to remember your place.”

Leah had heard variations of that sentence throughout her working life.

Usually, she ignored them.

Tonight she didn’t.

“My place is beside a child whose mother trusted me.”

Celeste stepped around the table.

“His mother is dead.”

The cruelty of it landed harder because Celeste said it without raising her voice.

Leah’s jaw tightened.

“Give me the key,” Celeste said.

“No.”

“Whatever Elise left belongs to Graham.”

“Then Graham can open it.”

For the first time, Celeste lost control.

She grabbed Leah’s wrist.

Noah began crying.

“If that box is opened, you’ll regret it.”

Leah stared at her.

“Why?”

“Because I can make one phone call and tell authorities you removed this baby without authorization.

Who do you think they’ll believe? Graham Harrow’s wife or an employee with thirty-eight