On the phone, Vanessa whispered, “Claire,
the name Natalie wrote is Daniel.”
Another knock sounded.
“Claire,” the man outside called again. “It’s me.”
Mason stirred in the other room.
I stared at the locked hotel door as the man I had spent seven years believing abandoned me spoke the next words.
“I know what Tyler told you.”
A pause.
Then:
“And I know where your real son is.”
