PART 4

The driver closed the door, and the car pulled away from the curb. Through the rear window, I watched Victor grow smaller. Samantha was speaking urgently to him, but he remained motionless on the sidewalk, staring after me. He did not know it yet, but those would be the last words he ever said before losing the family he had taken for granted. Mrs. Gable was waiting with my daughters in a private lounge at the airport. Margaret Gable had been my mother’s closest friend.

After my mother died, Margaret became the person I called when I needed advice that came without judgment. She had flown from London three days earlier to help me prepare. When Charlotte saw me, she ran across the lounge and wrapped both arms around my waist. “Are we really going today?” “We are.” “Is Daddy coming later?” My throat tightened. “No, sweetheart.” Her face fell, but Abigail, who was nine and understood far more than she admitted, quietly closed the coloring book in her lap. “He chose the baby, didn’t he?” she asked. Mrs. Gable looked away. I crouched in front of Abigail. “Your father made some selfish choices,” I said carefully. “But none of those choices happened because of you or your sister.” “He said boys carry the family name.”

I felt a chill move through me. “When did he tell you that?” “Last Sunday. Grandma Miriam said the baby would be the real Reynolds heir, and Dad told her not to say it in front of us.” Abigail’s eyes filled with tears. “But we had already heard.” I pulled both girls into my arms. There are moments when a mother wants to protect her children by hiding the ugliness of the world. Then there are moments when protection means teaching them that someone else’s cruelty does not determine their worth.

“You are not less important because you are girls,” I told them. “You are not leftovers. You are not the family someone keeps until something better arrives. You are my whole heart, and from today forward, we are building a life where you will never have to beg anyone to see your value.” Charlotte pressed her cheek against my shoulder. Abigail whispered, “Promise?” “I promise.”

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART….