SIX

KEONA

Turns out, Lindsay was not joking when she said Sophia was registered as Cora’s emergency contact. I refused to believe it until the principal of Brooks Hall showed me Cora’s file himself, and there it was: Sophia’s phone number written right beside Hardin’s.

And the crazy part? 

Every child at Brook’s Hall requires two emergency contacts. For Cora, it used to be me and her father.

Colour me surprised when I checked the file and found my name and phone number erased and replaced with Sophia’s. 

“I’m sure this must be some sort of misunderstanding,” I’d told Principal Malcolm, my voice trembling with disbelief. “I’m Cora’s mother, not Sophia. I registered her in this school myself. How come my number was erased?”

Principal Malcom adjusted his glasses and gave me a bewildered stare. 

“I assure you that I have no hand in this. The number was changed in accordance with Mr. Cromwell’s strict order. There’s no way I could refuse.”

Mr. Cromwell’s strict order…

The words felt like a physical blow. 

I left in silence, my face red with embarrassment.

Ten minutes later, I’m still sitting in my car, my chest aching beneath the weight of pain, anger and humiliation. 

I know he doesn’t love me, but Hardin has gone too far this time.

Trembling with rage, I dial his number, ready to give him a piece of my mind.

The phone rings once, twice, thrice…but in the end, he doesn’t answer. 

I call him ten more times, the knot of worry in my stomach tightening the longer I go without seeing my daughter. 

All my calls go unanswered. 

Shaking with nerves, I make a quick decision and call his office instead. 

Thankfully, his secretary answers on the first ring.

“Hardin Cromwell’s personal office, who am I onto, please?” 

“Ella, it’s me, Mrs. Cromwell.”

“Oh…” Ella’s tone goes from warm and receptive to cold and crisp in an instant. Right now, I honestly couldn’t care less.

“Mrs. Cromwell, is there a problem?”

“I’m not sure. I’m unable to reach my husband. Could you please tell him that I’d like to speak with him?”

“I’m sorry but that won’t be possible. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

I swallow hard, forcing down the anger and disbelief rising in my throat.

“Why won’t it be possible? Just get Hardin on the line. This is urgent.”

Ella takes a deep breath, like I’m wasting her precious time.

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Cromwell gave strict instructions that he must not be disturbed for the rest of the day. He took the day off to attend to a private matter with Miss Bennett."

A retort is already sitting at the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it when I hear that last sentence. 

“Did you just say he took the day off to spend time with Sophia?” The words come out in a tiny whisper, betraying the anger that currently swirls in my lungs like acid.

“I’m sure I did,” Ella responds tartly. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll end the call now…”

“Give me Sophia’s address!” I blurt. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cromwell, but that is confidential employee information and I cannot…”

My temper finally snaps.

“Listen to me!” I bark. “My daughter is missing. The school authorities say Sophia picked her up. I’m sitting in my damn car in the pouring rain, worried sick about my child. If you don’t do as I say, I’ll make sure you don’t have a job by the end of tomorrow. Do you understand me?!”

For a moment, tense silence reigns on the other end of the line. Then finally, Ella lets out a deep, aggressive sigh and rattles off the address.

“112 Royal Estate. Goodbye.”

I’m pretty sure I hear her mumble “crazy woman” under her breath before the line goes dead.

***

Royal Estate is one of the most beautiful and exclusive estates in the city, home to the top ten percent of Manhattan’s filthy rich population. 

My mouth falls open in disbelief when I finally locate Sophia’s house — or mansion, if I’m being more accurate. 

The mansion rises from the manicured grounds like a modern-day grand palace, its pristine white façade framed by towering columns, ornate balconies and sweeping grey rooftops. 

It looks like something straight out of a luxury architectural magazine. 

I park my car in the outdoor parking area and hurriedly step out, desperately hoping that Cora is here.

I barely take two steps when I spot something familiar in the distance.

“Is that…?”

I walk closer and sure enough, I was not mistaken. 

It’s Hardin’s car, a Lexus LX 570.

I would recognize that customized gleaming machine anywhere. And it’s sitting in Sophia’s driveway on a Monday morning, when my husband is supposed to be at work. 

Tears instantly blur my vision, but the anger burning through my veins is way too vicious to let them fall. If I needed any more proof that he’s cheating on me, this is it right here.

God knows how many times he’s left me at home in the morning, claiming to go to work, when meanwhile, he’s whiling his time away at his mistress’ house. 

I square my shoulders, lift my chin and make my way towards the front door.

I’ll just walk in there, grab my child and leave. I won’t give Hardin even an ounce of my attention. 

I ring the doorbell and surprisingly, the door swings open almost immediately, revealing a middle-aged woman draped in a luxurious cream Chanel dress with dangerous six-inch heels to match. 

Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, every strand perfectly in place as she looks me up and down with a deep frown etched across her face.

It’s Kaliyah Cromwell, popularly known as the Ice Queen, and unfortunately, my mother-in-law.

The moment I lay eyes on her, my anger dulls, replaced by that familiar, crushing sense of inadequacy.

“Yes? What do you want?” Her tone is not venomous, but it’s filled with so much dismissal, it makes my chest hurt.

I used to look up to Kaliyah after my mother died. Once upon a time, she treated me like her own daughter. She made me feel loved… until Sophia returned and I realized a bit too late that I was just a placeholder for the original. 

Once Sophia returned, Kaliyah made it extremely clear who she preferred. She became cold overnight and spent less and less time with me, choosing to take Sophia to all the events and social gatherings we once used to attend together. 

It hurt so terribly, I cried myself to sleep for months.

It still hurts. And I hate myself for the soft spot I still have for this woman, even when she never misses an opportunity to make me feel small.

“Hello, mother,” I force a smile. “Won’t you invite me in?”

Kaliyah purses her lips, a hint of disgust marring her features as she gives my wet clothes another once over. 

Just when I start to think she might actually leave me out there to freeze to death, she finally steps aside.

I brush past her, my eyes widening as I take in the luxurious interior of the place.

“Why are you here?” Kaliyah asks behind me, stopping me midstep.

From her crisp tone, it’s very clear that I’m not welcome.

I take a deep breath and turn to face her. 

“You’re here. My daughter’s here. Hardin’s here. Why can’t I be here?”

 I tilt my head to one side, “are you hosting some secret meeting that I’m not allowed to attend?”

Kaliyah raises an unimpressed brow, no doubt surprised at my question. Afterall, I used to be the quiet, humble daughter-in-law. I never talked back. All she had to do was ask me to jump and I’d be foaming at the mouth, ready to smash my head through the ceiling for her sake. 

“Seems like you’ve gotten bold, Keona,” she says coldly. “Are you perhaps accusing me of something?”

Before I can respond, a voice floats into the room.

“Mother, who’s at the door…?”

I would recognize that annoying high-pitched baby voice anywhere.

I turn around, irritation crawling beneath my skin as I watch Sophia Bennett descend the grand staircase, her eyes widening in shock the moment she sees me.

Ever the pretentious bitch, she quickly smothers her surprise beneath a smile I know is fake as hell before hurrying toward me.

“Keona! What a lovely surprise! What are you doing here?”

She moves to hug me and I take a small, cautious step back. 

Sophia’s arms awkwardly fall to her sides, and she covers the moment with a little cough. 

I try to speak but she beats me to it;

“I’m so sorry,” she says, glancing at my damp clothes. “I would’ve hugged you but you look… wet. What are you doing here again?”

Her white-lotus concealed bitchiness does not go unnoticed. 

“What am I doing here?” I scoff. “I’m here for my daughter. Where is she?”

I try to move past Sophia but she blocks my path, her eyes narrowing before a quick, fake smile takes over.

“Why do you look so worried? Cora is fine.”

“She’s right,” Kaliyah says, walking past me to stand beside Sophia. “My grand baby is perfectly fine. I’m here to take care of her. You can leave now.”

I can’t help the short, derisive laugh that bubbles up my throat.

“Did I imagine it or did you just imply that I leave without my sick child? I’m sorry, but that’s not happening. Cora is coming with me or I’m not leaving at all.”

The atmosphere bubbles with a tension so volatile, I can almost taste it. Sophia opens her mouth to respond when the soft patter of approaching footsteps reaches us.

“Mommy, is that you?”

The moment I hear my daughter’s voice, I momentarily forget about anyone else. 

“Cora!” 

“Mommy!”

She runs towards me, wearing a pink tule dress I don’t recognize, her curls bouncing all over her happy face. 

My heart drums with happiness as I go down on both knees, ready to wrap my little girl in my arms. I missed her so much.

I’m just about to grab Cora when, in the twinkling of an eye, she disappears from my sight.

For a moment, I just blink, wondering what the hell happened.

Then I look up and the sight that greets me has anger and confusion wrapping around my spine like poison ivy. 

Sophia has Cora wrapped up in her arms, her nose pressed into my daughter’s hair, just like she did last night on national TV.

I’m still on my knees, and I don’t miss the way Sophia and Kaliyah look down their noses at me, like I’m some sort of pauper with a communicable disease. 

“I’m sorry, Keona, but I don’t think it’s advisable for you to hug Cora right now. She’s already sick, and you’re dripping wet.” Her voice is all soft, like she cares about my daughter’s wellbeing more than I do. 

I try to argue but apparently, Sophia, the manipulator is not done. 

“You don’t want her to catch a cold, do you?”

Kaliyah purses her lips, waiting for my next move like a venomous snake waiting to strike. 

“Ms. Sophie is right.”

I freeze, my head whipping towards Cora as her tiny voice fills the room. 

“I don’t want to catch a cold, mommy. Maybe we shouldn’t hug right now.”

The hurt that’s currently brewing in my heart is too strong to put into words.

But Cora doesn’t notice that her words hurt mommy. She’s too busy playing with Sophia’s hair. 

“Fine,” I whisper, my teeth gritted. “Just put her down. I want to check on her.”

Sophia obliges, even though the look on her face screams that she’d much rather hold on to my child and keep her away from me.

Cora inches towards me and takes my hand, 

“I’m fine, mommy? Ms. Sophia and daddy took good care of me. Ms. Sophia even threw me a tea party. Wanna see?”

I barely respond when she turns around and pulls me towards one of the rooms.

The room turns out to be the playroom. 

It’s a soft, girl haven of blush pink and lilac, with plush rugs, dolls, Cora’s favourite stuffed animals, and a tiny, white tea table surrounded by pink chairs. 

But it’s not the beauty of the room that catches my attention and causes me to freeze up in shock. 

It’s the six-foot-four, broad shouldered hunk of a man, dressed in an expensive Burnelli Cucinelli suit and currently arranging cookies on one of the fancy trays. 

It’s the way he looks so out of place among the sea of pink and lilac in his dark clothes, exuding that equally dark, magnetic aura that never fails to have goose pimples pebbling my skin.

He looks up when I walk in, his hooded eyes sliding over my body with an intensity that almost makes me stumble.

“Look mommy,” Cora tugs at my wet clothes, pulling me towards him. “Daddy even agreed to arrange the cookies…!”