“I’m in the middle of an emergency surgery,” I snapped, the pressure of the situation coiling around my throat.
Jason laughed, cold and thin. “You think I’m the one who cares about Lucy’s heart? I’m talking about the money you owe me. You promised to funnel a portion of your adoption stipend to the children’s fund.”
Elena’s grip tightened on the trust papers. “You can’t
Jason cut her off. “Oh, I can. I have a copy of the video you sent me last month—Lucy’s birthmark, that whisper of ‘Mara’ from your journal. It’s a perfect story to sell. If you don’t pay up, I’ll release it. The world will know the Brooks secret, and the charity will be flooded with lawsuits.”
My mind raced. The video, the hidden journal, the name Mara—my own scribbles from years ago. The room seemed to close in.
