Page 65 of Down Knot Out
There it is. The blow I’ve been waiting for.
I stare at the porch railing to give me something to focus on as my world tilts. “Sheasked for Quinn?”
“Yes. We’re hoping to schedule a visit sometime in the next few weeks. A sober companion would attend the visit at a site you both agree on.”
I exhale slowly through my nose.Keep it steady.Don’t let them hear the panic.“I’ll need to discuss it with the rest of the pack.”
A pause, then, “Of course. Let us know, and we’ll find a time that works for everyone.”
“I will.” I hang up before she can say anything else.
I stare at the screen for a long moment, Sadie’s name burned into my retinas. The pressure in my chest tightens. Rage and fear coil together behind my ribs, a familiar mix I’ve learned to swallow.
She wants to see Quinn. The courts might think she’s earned that right.
But I know better. And I’ve given up too much,we’vegiven up too much, to let Sadie come back now and tear this all down.
I wish I could believe that she’ll put Quinn’s needs first.
Instead, I see the same future unfolding, over and over again. Our father will push her, threaten to cut off her expenses, and then we’ll end up in court.
The judge won’t care how much Quinn loves it here, how much she’s settled in, or that Sadie surrendered guardianship. As far as the courts are concerned, biology trumps everything. As far as the courts are concerned, Sadie still has a right to take Quinn.
Even if it destroys her.
Chapter Eighteen
Chloe
Sinclair & Associates Law Firm towers above the buildings on either side in a monument of wealth and privilege, all gleaming glass and polished granite that reflect the morning sunlight.
My stomach twists as Dominic parks the car in front of the valet, my fingers finding the shamrock necklace at my throat. I draw strength from each bump of the birthstones, reminding myself that I’m not alone anymore.
“We don’t have to do this.” Dominic reaches across the console, his warm hand covering mine. “We can drive away right now.”
My heart thuds in my ears as I fight the urge to flee Mosswood and run to the docks at Pinecrest, where the water taxi will whisk us back to MistyPines. There, I can burrow into the blankets in my room that smell of pack.
“No.” I squeeze his fingers. “I need answers for why Simon is stalking me, and what he has to do with my father.”
A muscle jumps in Dominic’s jaw. “Stay close to me.”
Dominic squeezes my hand once more before pulling back to kill the engine. He leaves the keys in the ignition for the valet already approaching in a tailored vest and polished shoes.
With a deep breath, I open my door and step out into the warm sun.
Dominic rounds the car to join me, resting a steadying hand on the small of my back as we enter the hushed, gleaming lobby.
The receptionist greets us by name, but I barely hear her. My heart pounds louder than her words as she directs us to the elevator.
It chimes, and we step inside.
The elevator rises smoothly, carrying us toward a confrontation I’ve spent a decade believing would never happen. My reflection in the polished brass doors shows a professional, but my pallor and wide, pink eyes betray me.
Dominic’s hand stays on the small of my back, and the simple point of contact burns through myblazer in counterpoint to the cold fear trickling down my spine.
The doors slide open with a soft chime, revealing a second reception area more suitable for an art gallery than a law office. Abstract paintings in muted colors hang on stark white walls. Gold veins weave through the white marble floor, and furniture in sleek, angular shapes sits arranged in perfect symmetry.
A woman in a tailored gray dress rises from behind a glass desk. “Ms. Richardson and Mr. Sterling? They’re waiting for you in the conference room.”
