Jason stepped closer, agitation rising. “I have a right to see my child.”
“Rights follow procedure,” Margaret said evenly. “Your conduct last night will be reviewed accordingly.”
He looked at me then—searching for the version of me who apologized for his anger, who softened his edges for him, who believed his better self was always about to appear.
“Emily,” he said gently, the old manipulative tone slipping into place, “don’t let them turn you against me.”
My fingers tightened in the hospital blanket. My baby shifted softly beside me, that fragile sound cutting through the tension.
“You already did that,” I said.
His face hardened instantly. “So this is about money.”
Silence answered him.
He gave a sharp, bitter laugh. “You were hiding it. Sitting on some secret fortune while pretending to be helpless.”
Madeline flinched. Margaret did not.
Jason pointed at Madeline. “And you—my wife—standing here like this? After everything I did for you?”
“You didn’t do anything for me,” Madeline replied. “You told me a version of events. I believed it—until I saw her name on an acquisition chain.”
Jason blinked. “What acquisition?”
Madeline inhaled slowly. “The deal you’ve been boasting about. The one you said would ‘change your life.’ It belongs to her.”
Confusion spread across his face.
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