"I told you not to call me again," Kate hissed into her phone, pacing across Sophia's room. Her silk dress rustled with each step. Sophia was fast asleep, her tiny breaths rising and falling against the soft pillow.
From the doorway, Samantha stood in silence, half-hidden in the shadow of the hall. She didn't dare move.
"If you don't want the truth out in the public, then do as I tell you," a man's voice growled from the other end of the line. Samantha couldn't make out who he was—only Kate's side of the conversation reached her ears.
Kate's face drained of color. She pressed her free hand into her hair, tugging strands loose until it was a mess around her shoulders. "I'll send the rest of the money tomorrow—no delays. Just don't ever call this number again. Do you hear me? Never again!"
Her voice cracked. The line went dead.
Samantha's pulse quickened. The rest of the money? How much? A hundred thousand? A million? What secret is she paying to bury? Does Nick know about this?
Kate turned—and froze. Samantha was there, framed in the doorway, her expression unreadable.
"How long have you been standing there?" Kate's voice trembled, her knuckles still white from gripping the phone.
Samantha stepped calmly into the room, her heels clicking softly against the floor. Her smile was polite, practiced. "Not long. I was searching for the guest room. Your mother-in-law told me to come upstairs. I must have mistaken Sophia's door for the guest one."
Kate's chest rose and fell quickly. The sight of Samantha smiling so effortlessly eased her fear, at least on the surface. "I see. Then let me guide you. Go straight down the hall and take the left. The guest washroom is there."
"Thank you," Samantha said smoothly. She walked past Kate, her perfume trailing like a reminder of power. Kate quickly brushed her hair with Sophia's comb, trying to erase every trace of her panic before returning downstairs.
*****
---
The dining room lights glowed warmly, but Kate's hands were still cold as she rejoined the family. Did she hear me? Was she pretending? Why didn't she ask a single question? Or did she come too late? The thoughts swirled violently in her head until Nick's voice pulled her back.
"Did you find the doll?" Nick asked, his brow creased. "I told you not to buy her that cheap thing, but you insisted. Now look—she nearly broke down over it."
"What bothers me most," Naomi added, folding her arms, "is the name she gave it. Ally. Out of all the names in the world, why that?"
Kate sat down quietly, smoothing her dress. Chloe leaned back in her chair and smirked. "I had to come up with a lie on the spot to cover for her tonight. I deserve credit for that."
Kate's jaw tightened. "That's what you're good at, isn't it? Lying."
"That's because I'm Chloe Carter," Chloe shot back without hesitation.
Nick chuckled, almost admiring his daughter's quick wit. "And it was smart of you. We don't need unnecessary questions tonight."
"Whatever," Chloe replied with a half-shrug, her tone laced with satisfaction.
As the Carters traded their words, Samantha reappeared at the table. She slipped back into her seat with poise, her eyes sweeping over them all as though she'd missed nothing. "It's late. I should be leaving," she said, rising.
"Already?" Nick stood with her, his hands casually tucked into his trouser pockets.
Samantha's eyes shifted toward the rain pounding against the tall windows. Sheets of water blurred the night, the thunder rolling like a warning from the heavens. She hesitated. Go out there? Into the storm? Into the same kind of night they once threw me out in, abandoned, carrying a child who never lived to see the morning?
"Oh, it will stop soon," Samantha said lightly, her mask of calm never breaking. But she didn't step out. She turned back.
Nick caught the hesitation. "You can stay, Samantha. The weather's too dangerous. It would be reckless to drive in this storm."
For a moment, Samantha studied his face—the same face that had once been her husband's, the same lips that had once said goodbye with cruelty. And yet here he was, offering her shelter. How ironic.
She set her bag down. "Then I'll stay. For the night."
The rain showed no mercy. Midnight came, and still it poured.
"Make the guest room ready for the young lady," Naomi instructed warmly, her smile directed at Samantha.
Kate's face stiffened. Her stomach knotted. "Why don't we just give her an umbrella instead?" she blurted.
The entire table turned toward her in sharp silence.
"My dear," Naomi said firmly, her eyes narrowing slightly, "we don't send our guests into a storm with umbrellas. She is under our roof. She is our responsibility."
Kate lowered her gaze, biting back her frustration.
Samantha caught every word, every flicker of unease in Kate's expression. That's all I wanted. Your welcome. Your protection. The same house that once spat me out will now shelter me. The balance of power is shifting.
---
The storm raged on outside, but inside the Carter mansion, a different kind of storm brewed—one of secrets, lies, and unspoken truths.
What was Kate hiding? What was she paying so much money for? And who was the man on the other end of the line?
Samantha knew one thing: the answers were close. Closer than they had ever been.
And tonight, she wasn't going anywhere.