Lily nodded, her eyes wide. “Is Sarah going to be mad?”
“Sarah isn’t going to touch you again,” Marcus said, his voice hard as iron, though his eyes remained gentle.
He pulled out his phone and texted Evelyn, his late wife’s mother, who lived ten minutes away on Ridge Road.
Evelyn, I need you to pick up Lily from the back gate right now. Don’t call. Don’t come to the front door. Just wait at the end of the lane. Something is very wrong.
Five minutes later, Evelyn’s silver sedan pulled up to the rear property line. Marcus walked Lily through the garden path, kissed her forehead, and handed her over to her grandmother.
Evelyn looked at Marcus with sharp, perceptive eyes. “Marcus, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
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“I might have,” Marcus said quietly. “Keep her with you. Don’t let Sarah near her, no matter what she says.”
“You have my word,” Evelyn said softly, securing Lily into her car seat before driving off down the tree-lined road.
Marcus watched the red taillights disappear, then turned back toward his home. The quiet, expansive residence in Greenwich had suddenly become a trap. But it wasn’t a trap for him—not anymore.
When Marcus walked back through the mudroom, Sarah was waiting in the kitchen, wiping down the marble countertops with a white towel.
“Where’s Lily?” she asked, her voice calm, though her eyes scanned the hall behind him.
“Evelyn called. She wanted to take her out for ice cream and a movie since I’m home for the day,” Marcus lied smoothly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I figured it would give us some quiet time.”
“That was short notice,” Sarah remarked, tossing the towel onto the counter. “Evelyn usually asks before pulling her out of the house.”
“She’s her grandmother, Sarah. She missed her.” Marcus took a slow sip of coffee. “Besides, I wanted to ask you about something. I was looking through the trust paperwork for Hannah’s beach house in Rhode Island this morning.”
