Alex’s POVMorning light spilled through the blinds of my office, but I hadn’t slept enough to appreciate it. I’d spent half the night staring at the ceiling, turning that child’s name over in my head until it stopped sounding like a word and started sounding like an accusation.Nicole Bennett.I rubbed a hand over my jaw, the stubble rough against my palm, I reached for the coffee Mark had left on my desk an hour ago. It's cold now but I drank it anyway.A knock sounded, and Mark stepped in before I answered, which told me whatever he had, he was in a hurry to hand it off.“You look like you didn’t go home,” I said, not looking up.“I didn’t, sir. I mean Mr. Alex.” He caught himself and set a folder on my desk like it might bite him.“Tell me you found something.”“Some of it.” He hesitated, and hesitation from Mark was never a good sign. “There’s no birth certificate on file listing a father. Just Maria Bennett, single mother, and the child, Nicole Bennett, born five years ago this
Read more