Page 68 of Secret Baby's Second Shot

Her eyebrows shot up. “Speaking of the foundation, what’s the update there? They’re still helping with the costs, right?”

“Yes,” I said, my stomach twisting. “But I feel like a fraud. We’re not the picture-perfect family we made them believe we were. And now that everything’s out in the open with Enzo’s family, I keep waiting for it all to blow up in my face.”

“Summer,” Mia said, her tone sharp but not unkind. “You did what you had to do to get Ava the care she needed. Don’t beat yourself up for that.”

“But it wasn’t honest,” I said, my voice trembling. “What if they find out? What if they take the funding away?”

Mia leanedback in her chair, her brow furrowed. “Do they even know the full story? About how Enzo found out Ava was his daughter?”

“No,” I admitted. “We haven’t told them. And now… now I don’t know if we should.”

Mia tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “It’s a mess, yeah. But what matters is Ava. You did what you had to do to take care of her. If anyone has a problem with that, they’re the ones in the wrong.”

Her words were comforting, but the weight of the situation lingered. I glanced around the café, suddenly feeling exposed, like every word we’d spoken was hanging in the air for anyone to hear.

Little did I know, someonewaslistening.

At a nearby table,a woman sat with a notebook open in front of her, her pen poised as if taking notes. She was inconspicuous enough—blonde hair in a neat bun, a pair of simple glasses perched on her nose—but her gaze flicked toward us every so often, sharp and calculating.

I hadn’t noticed her when we’d arrived, too consumed by my own thoughts to pay attention. But now, as Mia leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, the woman’s hand moved subtly, jotting something down in her notebook.

“So what’s the plan?” Mia asked, oblivious to our unwanted audience.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Right now, it’s just getting through the surgery. One thing at a time.”

“And the foundation?” Mia pressed.

I hesitated, guilt twisting in my gut. “I don’t know. I feel like we’re walking on eggshells. If they figure out the truth—about the fake relationship, about everything?—”

“They won’t,” Mia said firmly. “You’ve done everything for Ava. They’ll understand if it ever comes to that.”

I nodded, though her reassurance did little to ease my anxiety.

The womanat the nearby table adjusted her glasses, her movements deliberate. She stood, slipping her notebook into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. As she walked past our table, she offered a polite smile, but there was something in her eyes—something calculating.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Mia said, pulling my attention back to her.

“Thanks,” I said softly, giving her a faint smile.

But as the woman disappeared through the door, a strange unease settled over me.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been listening.

36

SUMMER

The phone call came just after breakfast, Ava still asleep in her hospital bed, her little hand clutching Bunny tightly. I was standing by the window, staring out at the parking lot, trying to steady my nerves when my phone buzzed.

“This is Summer Bowen,” I answered, my voice quiet to avoid waking Ava.

“Ms. Bowen, this is Danielle McAllister from the Pearson Foundation.” The voice on the other end was clipped, professional, and cold.

My stomach dropped. “Oh, hi. Is everything okay?”

“No, Ms. Bowen,” she said flatly. “I’m calling to inform you that the foundation will no longer be able to provide financial support for your daughter’s medical expenses.”

The words hit me like a brick. “What?”

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