"The law only believes in evidence. You've already left your fingerprint," Gilbert said with a shrug, waving the contract in his hand, a wicked smile curling on his lips.
"You—go to hell!" Claire snapped, lifting her leg to kick him again.
He sidestepped easily, and she missed.
Just then, the elevator doors slid open.
Gilbert strolled out, triumphant.
Claire rolled her eyes in fury.
Inside the guest room, she stormed straight into the shower, turned on the hot water, and scrubbed herself fiercely, as if trying to wash off a layer of skin. Only when her body turned flushed red did she step out, wrap herself in a bathrobe, and leave the bathroom.
She went to check on Dean's room. The three little ones were fast asleep, huddled together, tiny, rosy-cheeked faces soft with innocence.
Hilary clung tightly to Adam's neck, while Dean had one leg thrown across her. Adam lay sideways, his fuzzy pajamas making him look heartbreakingly sweet.
