Hooking my arms under Brady’s, I returned his hug.

“I…uh…” Stephanie stammered. “How about I wait in the hall and give you two a minute alone.”

Brady released me and leaned toward his wife, brushing her blond curls away before gently cupping the curve of her jaw. He whispered something soft in her ear that caused her lids to flutter shut. When he was done talking, she tipped her head slightly, offering her husband her mouth.

He pecked her once. And then again before breathing, “I love you.”

It was so sweet and unlike anything I knew of Brady, so much so that it momentarily made me uncomfortable.

He watched her with warm eyes as she glided to the door, and then, with one last glance over her shoulder, she was gone.

Brady turned back to me and blew out a ragged breath.

He stared at me.

And I stared at him.

Neither of us uttered a word, but it was as far from my comfortable silence with Porter as one could get.

Finally, in a shaky voice, he said, “It’s over. It’s really over.”

But it didn’t feel like it was over to me. I was terrified that it was just getting started.

And I had no one who could understand that feeling. I was getting everything I wanted and it still scared the shit out of me.

And, for reasons that could only be explained by the staggering loneliness caused by Porter’s sudden departure from my life, I chanced a darkness confessional with Brady.

“I’m scared.”

His eyebrows drew together. “What? Why?”

Questions.

I focused over his shoulder at the door. “I have no idea.”

“That’s crazy, Charlotte. This is what we’ve been praying for since day one. And it’s finally happening. Don’t be scared.”

Judgment.

Steeling myself and ignoring the pain in my chest, I flashed a tight smile at him. “You’re right.”

Faking it.

He inched closer and lowered his voice, but it wasn’t the soft one he’d used with his wife. It was as if he were whispering over gravel. “You have to get that shit out of your head. I don’t want him seeing that. He needs to feel like this is a good thing. Because it is a good thing. Lucas is coming home.”

I swallowed hard. “Right. I’m sorry. I’ll get it together.”

Apologies.

Noise at the door drew my attention. Mom came walking in, two cups of coffee in her hands.

“Hey, Brady,” she said, suspiciously glancing between the two of us.

She’d been with me since I’d arrived, only stepping out of the room twice. Once to check with Tom to see what was going on. And the other about ten minutes earlier to get coffee—and I suspected once again to check in with Tom, seeing as he was following her in.

He came straight to me. “Brady tell you?”

“I hadn’t had a chance,” he replied, moving away.

Alarm pricked the hairs on the back of my neck. “Tell me what?”

Tom’s face softened as he whispered, “It’s him.”

“I know,” I replied.

I could have told him that back at the house. I had not one single doubt about it. I don’t know how I had known, but the minute I’d seen him with fresh eyes, I had known he was mine. Yet Tom’s next words still hit me harder than I ever could have imagined.

“No, Charlotte. It’s really him. Remember the prints we lifted off his toys when he was first taken? They’re a match. He’s yours.”

Proof. Undeniable. Absolute. Final.

I blinked again, but this time, panic blasted through my system, causing my vision to go blurry.

“Oh, honey,” my mom breathed, sidling up beside me before pulling me into her side.

“So, when do we get to see him?” Brady asked, ignoring my impending meltdown.

“Well,” Tom started. “He’s down the hall. So I guess that’s up to you. I passed off all the paperwork to Brady’s attorney, who’s running them out to Judge Gratham’s house now. Assuming he’s got everything he needs, he said he’d sign off on a temporary custody order until a formal hearing can be set. Social Services is going to want to have a word with you two before you can take him home, but you can meet him any time you’d like.”

“Temporary custody?” Brady snarled.

“It’s a formality,” Tom assured.

In a quiet voice, I found the courage to ask, “What about Porter?”

Tom’s face got hard. “What about him?”

“Yeah,” Brady snapped. Taking a giant step in my direction, he parroted Tom but with a lot more attitude. “What about him?”

I licked my dry lips and flashed my gaze between the two men. “I mean…what’s going on with him? How is he involved?”

“He kidnapped our son!”

Tom lifted his hand to silence Brady. His face remained hard, but his voice gentled. “Our guys are still working with him, trying to figure out his role in all of this.” He pointedly cut his gaze to Brady for a second before sweeping it back to mine. “It doesn’t appear that he was part of the actual abduction. Lucas was already four when he met Catherine Reese. We believe her child died, though we don’t have a cause of death yet. It appears to be of natural causes. Maybe SIDS or some underlying medical condition. Who knows? She was probably distraught, saw Lucas at the park, and took him to replace her son. Just slipped him right into Travis’s life.”

I lifted a shaky hand to cover my mouth and breathed, “So, Porter didn’t know?”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me here,” Brady seethed.

Tom turned a scowl to Brady, who was all but vibrating beside me. However, with my old friend hope infusing my system, I didn’t give a damn.

“Answer me,” I demanded.

“We don’t know,” Tom replied. “I refuse to believe he didn’t figure it out before he started pursuing you. The fact that he was dating the biological mother of the child his wife kidnapped doesn’t sit well with anyone here. Way too much coincidence there for it not to be suspicious. But we’re going to get to the bottom of it. Trust me on this, babe. You do not have to worry about Porter Reese anymore.”

Oh, but for the way my heart felt like it had been put through a strainer, I did.

Brady fisted a hand on his hip, his other pinching the bridge of his nose, and spat, “I can’t believe you were dating that piece of shit.”

My throat got thick and a cold chill sent a shiver down my spine, but I gathered enough attitude to choke out, “I don’t particularly care what you believe and don’t believe, Brady.”

My hands were shaking, so Tom caught the back of my neck and pulled me into his chest, his words aimed at Brady. “Think of it this way. It all worked out. We found him, okay? Let’s worry about Lucas now.”

Nodding, I sucked in a deep breath, hoping that it would somehow ease the turmoil and panic inside me.

It didn’t.

But I could pretend better than anyone on the planet.

And, as the hours wore on, I had to do just that.

* * *

I sat on the wrong side of the two-way mirror in the police station, my arms folded on a small table, my face buried between them.

My chest empty.

My mind jumbled.

My stomach in knots.

My entire fucking life unrecognizable.

I’d only thought the day Catherine had driven off that bridge was the ultimate betrayal.

Boy, had I been wrong about that.

“Answer the question, Porter.”

“No!” I snarled, lifting my head to stare into the eyes of the third cop who had come in to ask me the same fucking question over the last two hours. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So, Catherine—”

“No!” I snapped, shoving off the table and rising from my chair.

My nerves were shot.

The fingerprints were a match. DNA was still being processed, but I’d given up holding out any hope that that wasn’t going to match too.

Travis was Charlotte’s son.

And nobody in the entire fucking Atlanta police department would believe that I didn’t have something to do with it.