After the divorce, I had no one left to lean on. Because of the child growing inside me, I swallowed my pride and did every j0b I could find. On the day I went into lab0r, I drove myself to the hospital, trembling through every red light.

He didn’t.

Three months earlier, my husband, Julian Vance, had placed divorce papers on our dining-room table.

His mother, Eleanor, stood directly behind him.

Calm.

Perfectly dressed.

Watching me as though she had been waiting for that moment.

I looked from the documents to Julian.

“I’m pregnant.”

He adjusted the expensive watch on his wrist.

“That’s unfortunate timing.”