Matthew raises one hand without looking at her.
Not rude. Not theatrical. Just final.
Ava screams again, harder this time. The sound punches through the corridor, and you feel humiliation burn so hot it almost steadies you. You are too embarrassed to be afraid for one weird second.
“I’m sorry, sir,” you say, shifting Ava helplessly. “My sitter got sick. I would never have brought her if I had any other option.”
Matthew studies your face for a beat, then the baby’s. His expression does not soften, exactly, but it becomes more focused. As if he is no longer thinking about the disruption and has moved on to the problem.
Voir la suite sur la page suivante:
